Your meal replacement product is absolute crap.

Let me start by saying this is strictly my opinion of products.  NOT the people who sell them.  Also...it's an opinion.  I'm not an expert (obvi).

Now that I have your attention...

Hi there.

People ask me all the time what steps I've taken to lose all this weight and get heathier this year.

When I tell them, "clean eating and LOTS of exercise," the vast majority of them stand there, waiting for me to continue speaking.  When I don't, they invariably ask...

"No supplements?"

"No meal replacements?"

No.  None of that stuff.

Actual, factual food, and real, hard work.  Boom.  End of story.

When they then ask why I don't use Shakeology/Isagenix/Advocare/Herbalife, my response is invariably say this:
1) I'm doing fantastic without it.
2) most of them suck and aren't really that healthy
3) I'm not a fan of MLM in general
4) I don't want to pay for something that I feel has no value

I have a science background.   Buzzwords don't get me excited.  Facts do.

If this is the healthiest meal of your day, I'd hate to see what kind of crap you're eating the rest of the day.

You know what else builds champions?  Hard work.

No comment.

Their logo is green, so it has to be healthy...right?

Now, I know I just raised a lot of hackles.  Like half the people I know from the gym are slaves to Isagenix.  An online fitness group I participate in is on the Shakeology train.  I have co-workers who sell and use Herbalife, and relatives that sell and use Advocare.  Universally, people who use this type of product are fanatically devoted to it.  And that's cool...whatever floats your boat!

I just don't feel any of it is necessary, or healthy.

Here is why.

Exhibit A:  http://www.ancestral-nutrition.com/an-unbiased-review-of-herbalife/

Exhibit B: http://www.ancestral-nutrition.com/unbiased-review-shakeology/

Exhibit C: http://www.ancestral-nutrition.com/an-unbiased-review-of-isagenix/

Exhibit D: http://www.ancestral-nutrition.com/an-unbiased-review-of-advocare/

Please read the one(s) that pertain to you.  I'll wait here.

Ok, now that you've read the one(s) that pertain to you and are armed with a billion reasons why X-brand shake and bar and vitamins are the best thing ever, let me lay this on you...

I am aware that Dani's research is imperfect.  However, it's the first research I've seen that wasn't funded and published by the company selling the product.

I've seen dozens upon dozens of articles touting the awesomeness of these products.  I've seen Facebook links to information about their "nutritional quality."  100% of these articles and links have been directly from the company itself.

That's not research, guys.

That's propaganda.

And after every article about the "nutritional quality" are testimonials.  Sometimes the testimonials are from happy customers.  SOMETIMES THEY ARE FROM PEOPLE WHO'VE MADE A LOT OF MONEY PEDDLING THIS STUFF.  Red flag, yo.  The people I know that sell and use these products are good people...but it's easy to see how some shady characters could take serious advantage of people.  This is why I don't like MLM.

I've also had a lot of conversations with friends saying, "Well, X-brand may not be perfect, but it's better than Y-brand."

Being the best out of a category of not great things is still not good.

I think the number one reason why these products piss me off is this...

Many of them are officially called "meal replacement" items, but are heavily marketed as weight loss items.  "Slimcakes?"  "Isalean?"  "Advocare: We build champions?"  Come on.  Tell me that's not pushing overweight people to drop ten tons of money on snacks and shakes filled with chemicals, sugars, and GMOs, with a few "organic superfoods" thrown in to make the package wording sound appealing.

Every health professional I've talked to (not fitness professionals, heath professionals...nurses, doctors, chiropractors, and nutritionists) has told me they would never recommend this stuff to their clients or patients.  They do admit they've had patients who've lost weight using these products, but the vast majority have gained it back, plus some, once they stop the system.

And don't even get me started on cleanses.  Unless you have renal disease or liver failure, or for some reason, your body doesn't sweat, poop, or pee, I'm pretty sure Mother Nature designed your body to effectively "cleanse" itself without any outside help or starving.


I'm going to go ahead and read some of your minds right now...
Uh, Angie, WTF makes you such an expert?
You've only been "living this lifestyle" for like a year, what do you know?
Have you ever even TRIED these products?

Not an expert, just sharing my opinion and some unbiased, non-sponsored research.
In "living this lifestyle" along with my years of school in biochemistry, anatomy, physiology, and pathophysiology, I know a few things about the human body and how it works...and about how my human body has responded to exercise and real food.
I've tried three of the four companies and was not impressed by any of them.


I have a long way to go on my journey, but I've already come pretty far without the help of additives.  I think people sometimes want an easy solution, and that's not realistic.

If you choose to drink/eat this stuff, more power to you!  I've just been asked repeatedly why I don't, and growing increasingly frustrated with all the propaganda that comes my way from well-meaning friends.  Just like the clothes you wear, totally your choice.  Just 100% not for me. :)

Finally...

Just because it's vegan doesn't mean it's healthy.  Oreos are vegan.

Just because its organic doesn't mean it's healthy.  There are organic cigarettes.

EAT REAL FOOD.

Fat girl shopping

Disclaimers:
1) I am well aware of the fact that as a white American, I am privileged in ways that others are not.  This sucks and is unfair and I know it.
2) I am not trying to get into a "who's more oppressed than whom" pissing match here, just trying to make a point about something that frustrates me to no end.
3) Bah, humbug.

So.  Picture the last time you went shopping.  Just take a minute and try to recall.  What kind of selection was available in your size?  What part of the store was your size carried in?  Did the clothes designed for your gender stop at a certain size, and send all people bigger or smaller than that to a different part of the store to shop?  How was the lighting?  How did the salespeople treat you?

If you're a dude, there are a wide variety of choices available to you.  And whether you waist is 32 inches or 52 inches, your shirt size XS or XXL, in most stores, you can buy pants off the same clothes rack.  You lucky dog!  There are so many options for athletic wear for you that it has it's own section of the store.  Bonus!

If you're an average to below average sized lady, there are a wide variety of choices to you.  There are so many options for athletic wear for you that it often has it's own section of the store.  Bonus!  There are a plethora of brands and styles for you to choose from.  Chances are, if you walk into any store, anywhere (with the exception of plus-sized specialty stores) you can find multiple options in your size.

Another bonus?  Not everything is black!  Average to below average sized ladies are permitted to want colorful things.  You lucky ladies, you!

If you're an above average sized lady, you have known exactly where this was going from the beginning.

Our section of the store is about  1/4-1/3 the size of the "regular" sized ladies clothes, if we're lucky.  A sizable percentage of the options in the section are black, grey, navy, or brown (why would you want to draw attention to your fat by wearing bright colors?).  We are stuffed into the back of the store (why would you want to draw attention to fat people by making their clothing visible?).  If any athletic wear is offered in our size, there is generally one brand available and one rack of it (for example, in the sprawling cacophony that is Scheels, there is exactly one rack of Nike plus-sized athletic wear.  At Target, Kohls, and Younkers, there are exactly zero racks of plus-sized athletic wear.  In Shopko, there is exactly one rack of Energy Zone athletic wear.  I could go on, but you get it).  After all, fatties must not workout or they wouldn't be so fat, right?  RIGHT?

And if you live in a smaller town, things get worse.

When I lived in Door County, I had to drive for an hour JUST TO BUY  BRAS THAT FIT ME.  That's right.  The closest bras that fit my body at that time were in Green Bay.

When I was home for Christmas this year, about 70lb lighter than when I lived in Door County, I wanted new sweatpants, because my old sweatpants fit me 70lb ago and made me look like a hobo.  Even being several sizes smaller (but still a fat girl by all standards, really), I had to go to three stores to find a pair of suitable sweatpants.  SWEATPANTS.  I was not exactly seeking high-fashion...I just wanted something soft to wear to sit on the couch and watch Twilight Zone re-runs.

But seriously.

There are a lot of cute little boutique stores close to my apartment, and I like to window-shop (and sometimes actual-shop).  These boutiques are tiny, have a tiny selection (as most boutiques do, hence the name), with a tiny size offering (small and medium, large if they're feeling generous), and exorbitant prices.  But it's fun to go.  They also sell shoes and bags and household items and things that are accessible to my fat self.

My experience when shopping at these places has been fucking horrible.

If you are fat and walk into Hey, Daisy! for example, the employees will look at you, pause, and then go right back to talking to each other without so much as saying hello.  This happened once and I was annoyed.  This happened again, and I was infuriated.  So I decided to do an experiment.  Of all the specialty shops downtown that sell clothing, exactly one was welcoming and friendly when my fat self walked in (Thanks, Beatnik Betty's!).  The others must have decided that fat money doesn't spend the same and disregarded me.  Yes, I am aware that I will never ever ever fit into your clothing, but there are entire sections of your little store dedicated to things that I might have liked in my life.  That is, until you decided you didn't want my money.  I'm all about supporting local businesses, but downtown Appleton really needs to step up it's customer service game.


Again, I am aware that there are worse atrocities than being shoved to the back of the store to buy a limited selection of shapeless black clothing, and being treated poorly in a retail store.  I KNOW.

I've written about this before.  Why am I revisiting it?  Because it is still happening.  Because it sucks.

Also, because as I get closer and closer to not needing to shop in the fat girl section any more, I get more and more pissed that a fat girl section exists.  It's sizeist and sexist that my father and my husband, with their very different body sizes, can buy pants, belts, and shirts off the same clothing rack, and that my BFF and I, with our different body sizes, can't.  We have to go to opposite ends of the store to get every single garment except shoes.  Sometimes, we have to go to entirely different stores.

Double standard.

Not cool.

This post was going to be about compulsive weighing but then I got pissed at a stock photo and the theme changed

Does anybody else feel chained to their scale?  Or weigh yourself frequently?  Like...daily?  Or even multiple times a day?  Just to see how things change throughout the day?  Or find out how much your clothes weigh?  Or how much that burrito sitting in your stomach weighs?

I can't decide if it's out of sheer, morbid curiosity, or if I am legitimately addicted to my scale.


**But now, a rant.**

I had a lengthy blog post planned regarding frequent weighing, and how I'm ridiculous and step on my scale out of habit like 5 times a day, because I'm weird and I love to weigh myself.

Instead, I bring you this:

I hate this graphic SO MUCH.

I found this image while searching for suitable stock photos or memes to use for this blog entry.

For some reason, it made me irrationally angry.

Does the number on the scale immediately make you feel the need to exercise?  If it does, exercise is your punishment for being "fat," and that is seriously messed up.  First of all, being "fat" is NOT SOMETHING THAT DESERVES PUNISHMENT.  It is a state of being.  Lots of people on this wonderful earth are fat, and they do not deserve punishment simply for being fat, or eating bad food, or gaining a pound.  

STOP USING EXERCISE AS A PUNISHMENT FOR "BAD" BEHAVIOR!  Exercise, while not always fun, shouldn't be used that way.  How do you expect to enjoy an activity when you feel like you have to do it because you were "bad?"  Exercise is an amazing privilege.  Even when I am silently cursing my trainer for making me do those Roman chair ab thingies that make my shoulders scream and I look like a moron, at least a teeny, tiny part of me is glad I can use my limbs (however feebly) to do them (like 4 of them at a time, on a good day...but still).  Every time I am forced to run, I hate it so fucking much.  My shins hurt, my hip hurts, I get out of breath.  It's awful.  But guess what, I can move one leg in front of the other.  Tons of people probably wish they could run, and can't.  So I'm going to suffer through it and then appreciate that I did it.  Even though it's the worst thing ever.

Gah.  I hate that frickin image so much I could spit.

This is more like it.  Enjoy your body and USE IT!

This, I love.  Don't take it for granted, indeed.

My apologies if this entry makes no sense...I was absolutely hell-bent on writing about frequent weighing and why I think it's the devil but I love it so much...but that image just struck a chord with me and I couldn't stop myself.

Getting compliments and insults at the same time is so very unpleasant and awkward

So.  I am starting to feel weirdly naked.  Even when fully dressed.  I feel exposed and vulnerable and it's bizarre.  Eventually, I think it will be liberating and freeing, but I'm not quite there yet.

I've shed a small portion of my fat suit of armor and I feel like a naked little baby animal, all new and awkward and exposed.

"Hey everybody!  Come see how naked I am!"

I'm not deluded.  I know that I have a lot of "armor" to go before it's completely shed.  Trust me, my eyesight is fine.

It's challenging, however, make this transformation.  It's bizarre to go from being viewed negatively to viewed negatively AND positively simultaneously.  When you're fat, people view you as one of a few things:

1) Invisible

2) Disgusting

3) Someone to be pitied

4) Asexual

5) Lazy/Slovenly

Think I'm kidding?  Do a google search for the phrase "fat people are."  It will auto-fill with some horrible things.  Even worse is if you just search for the phrase "fat people."  You don't even need to hit "enter," the auto-fill suggestions are bad enough.  Go ahead.  I'll wait.

After awhile, you get used to being seen this way.  That doesn't make it okay, but it does make it routine.  The people who shout horrible things at you still hurt, but they no longer surprise you.  In fact, it surprises you when you can walk down the street without getting judgemental looks or words hurled at you.

During the weight loss process, you are in limbo.

Strangers still play Judgey-McJudgerson; staring at you, peering into your grocery cart (and being shocked that a fat girl is buying organic chicken, almond milk, and veggies instead of Cheetos and two-liter bottles of Coca-Cola), laughing, taking pictures of you on their phones (we see you, by the way), shouting things at you from their cars or porches, offering unsolicited weight loss advice, telling you that you could be pretty if you lost a few pounds, etc.  It's the same old crap.  Because to them, you're still a slovenly, disgusting fatty.  Because they can't see your beautiful heart and whip-smart mind and loyalty and revolting sense of humor.  You're just an anonymous fat girl, and must therefore be harassed and verbally abused and "helped" immediately. It's their duty!

On the other hand, people who know you tell you that you're motivating them.  They tell you you're an inspiration, they're proud of you, and that they look up to you.  This is really flattering and nice and SO AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE because you have no idea how to process people saying nice things about your appearance other than your parents (obligated by blood or adoption paperwork to think you're beautiful), sibs (obligated by years of torment as children to think you're beautiful), and spouse (who you somehow duped into thinking that you're beautiful - probably with sex and amazing cooking skills.  Sucker).  

And you want to say thank you but it feels awkward to accept compliments because you're not that used to them.  Then you feel like a giant tool for awkwardly smiling and saying "uh...thanks" because you have no idea how to process this without turning it around and finding a way to focus the attention elsewhere.  

And it's so goddamn nice to hear nice things about the way you look that it makes you mad at yourself and feel a little less like a feminist for being so happy that somebody praised your appearance (even though the people who know you are praising not only that, but your dedication and hard work as well).  And it's so nice to hear that you kind of want to cry, and that makes you feel even MORE awkward because you cry all the time as it is and that makes other people feel uncomfortable which makes you feel EVEN MORE FRICKIN AWKWARD, if that's possible.

Have I mentioned how awkward I am?

It kind of makes you want to make business cards with pictures of your formerly fatter self on them that say "FUCK YOU, I AM IN THE PROCESS OF BETTERING MYSELF, ASSHATS.  What have you done to improve yourself today?  NOTHING." to hand out to mean strangers.

But that would be mean, and it's not polite to call people names.

Even if they are asshats.

It's challenging to have this evolving vision of yourself while being viewed in two completely different ways based on your physical appearance by those who know you and those who don't.  Also, you are used to having a fat suit of armor on to keep observations and judgement away from your fragile little heart.  And as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, the armor is melting away and you feel naked and weird.

And awkward.

If I didn't say that already.

Comfort Zone

I like my comfort zone.  A lot.

It's comfy (hence the name).  I know everybody in it.  I can wear my sweatpants there and there's usually chocolate.

Here's the thing though.

Nothing new or exciting happens there.

Sometimes, that's ok.  Comfort and stability aren't necessarily bad!  In fact, they're two of the things my marriage is built on (along with ridiculous goofiness, fiery debates, trust, and gin cocktails).

But if you stay in it all the time, things will get stagnant.

To make a change, you need to get the hell out of your comfort zone.  Whether the change is in your health, your education, your career, your family, or whatever it is that needs alteration in your life...it's not going to happen if you're sitting in your comfort zone wearing sweatpants and eat chocolate.

Believe me, I know.

It's not easy, and it's not always fun.  I may well be the most awkward human to ever grace the earth.  I make people feel less weird about themselves just by being naturally awkward and bizarre.  )It's ok, I own it.  And you're welcome, everyone).  I've made a complete ass of myself stepping out of my comfort zone more times than I care to count or recall.

Take it from me, the queen of awkward.

There are a shit ton of memes about leaving your comfort zone.  As you may have noticed by reading previous blog posts, I am a big fan of memes.  I find some of them hilarious and perfect for my purposes.  (See above.)

Also, I find some of them corny as hell and not entirely accurate.  This, for example:

100% FALSE.

LIES.  Life does not begin at the end of your comfort zone.  A good portion of your life can be lived successfully in your happy little comfort bubble.  Part of your life SHOULD be lived in your comfort zone, or you will probably die of a stroke by age 30.  Too much stress is not good, and stepping out of your comfort zone is stressful as shit (at least for me...but again, I'm anxious and awkward).  

This one, however cheesy, I find to be partially true:

Only partially true...I'll get to that.

I do like that slice of cheesy goodness above, but like I said, It's only partially true.  Why?

THERE IS NOTHING MAGICAL ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS OUTSIDE OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE.  

It's not magic, it's hard fucking work.  

It's blood, sweat, tears, tears, more tears, hard work, more sweat, unfortunate facial expressions, that dream where you show up to school on the first day naked, anxiety, falling on your face, more sweat, and possibly some more blood.

It's also not 100% unicorns and rainbows.  If it was, nobody would be in their comfort zone, ever, because being out of it would be too spectacular and amazing...and then "out of the comfort zone" would become "the comfort zone" and vice versa, and that is some Inception shit that I can't even handle right now.

We put a comfort zone inside your comfort zone so you can comfort zone while you comfort zone and my brain just exploded.

Anyway, here's the point:

Don't feel badly about lurking in your comfort zone.  It's nice and warm and cozy in there.  I love my comfort zone.  

But don't be afraid to get out there and shake it up.  I guarantee, if you do, your life will change.  I can't guarantee that all the changes will be amazing.  Some of them might suck. 

The only person I can speak for is myself, and mine have been frickin amazing.

Finances

I haven't been able to post much recently because school, while amazing, is sucking up all my free time and brain cells.  I have a love-hate relationship with school, just like I have with working out.  At the time, It can be terrible...it's exhausting and hard and frustrating at times when I can't do something or can't figure something out.  But I know it's making me better and I love how I feel when I accomplish something, so I keep doing it.

So here's the scoop.  I've been working out with my trainer for almost 5 months now.  Which is amazing...sometimes I feel like I just started out (which I know in the grand scheme of things, I did) and at times I feel like I've been doing this forever.  It's become a habit...if I go more than one day between workouts, I feel icky and weird and sluggish and kind of gross.  I've learned some valuable lessons, such as (TMI alert, if you're squeamish about lady problems, move on to the next paragraph) you shouldn't avoid it when you have the worst fucking menstrual cramps of your life, because it will actually make them better.  Maybe days when you feel dizzy aren't the best days to try to do a bunch of burpees.  And for the love of God, EAT SOMETHING BEFORE YOU GO TO THE GYM.

But I'm super scared right now.  I only have one more month with my trainer.  Well, I should say one more sponsored month before I have to figure out how to pay for his services, because I want to keep him.  And when I say I want to keep him, I should be saying I need to...let's be honest, I need the push and the accountability.

As many of you know or may someday find out, getting healthier can be hella expensive.  Don't get me wrong, it's the best money I've ever spent (aside from my nursing degree and my travels).  But nutritionist visits, constant new clothes/alteration of current clothes, future gym membership payments (my gym is free for me for another 6 months, thank GOD for Jen Mott) and training sessions are expensive.  Plus, I'm paying tuition at a private university for the next 3 years.  Also: bills.  You get the picture, and I'm sure you can relate.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...if you want to get healthy, MAKE THE INVESTMENT.  I'm freaking out right now about how my husband and I are going to financially make this work (P.S. he joined the gym and got a trainer this month, too!  So excited!!!  And so freaked!) but it's such a high priority for us right now that we'll find a way to make this work.  Some of you may remember my blog post from this summer about simplification...well, ditching cable and phones and other things was all part of getting us ready for this crazy expensive fall we're having.

Also...not looking for sympathy, just putting it out there.  A lot of people have commented to me "I wish I could afford the gym/nutrtionist/trainer/etc but I can't."  The point is: we can't either, but this is worth the other sacrifices we're making.  Make yourself a priority.  And maybe, you don't even need a gym or a trainer!  You can youtube lots of fitness stuff and workouts for free, which is great if that's your bag!  I, unfortunately, need people to keep me in check and push my lazy ass past what I want to be doing (which is sitting on my duff watching Parenthood reruns).

A Workout

I've gotten quite a few facebook messages asking me what exactly my trainer has me do when we meet.  Well, it's hard to say...he switches it up a lot (thank goodness, I get bored easily) so while it's always different, it's always challenging.  The consistent pieces are: 5-10 minute warm-up (usually walking on the treadmill or biking), 30ish minutes with my trainer, 5 minute cardio cool down, and stretching.

As an example of the hellacious and awesome 30 minute training sessions, here's what we did today:

300.  It's a beey-otch.

My face after the workout.  Sans beard, of course.

This workout, to me, was like doing taxes...while it's happening, part of you wants to die.  It's taxing (no pun intended) and exhausting, but when you're done, you're SO HAPPY, you feel accomplished, and you're proud that you got through it without crying.  Also, you're not dead, which is a miracle.  (Ok, it wasn't THAT bad...but dang, it was tiring).

I can almost guarantee there is rum in that coffee mug.

Here's the breakdown:

20 squats (no added weight, thank God, just the bar, which I think weighs 45lbs)

I picked this photo because I find it hilarious that she is doing squats topless.  Put your junk away, lady.

20 bench presses (again, mercifully, with no added weight, just the bar)

Above: You're doing it wrong.

20 lat pulldowns (or is it overhead rows?  It's not with the big bar, it's with the little row handle...whatever it's called)

Owwwwwwww

20 burpees (now, since I'm new to burpees, I get to "cheat" a little and do them on a bench, which is amazing because they are hard enough as it is)

It was 20 x 3, and I wanted to die no less than 8 times.

20 seated rows

I wonder if this guy uses self tanner.

Do it three times.  Timed.  Try not to die.  My time was 23 minutes and I can't remember how many seconds.  It doesn't sound unbelievably challenging when I write it out...but I encourage you to try it, and prepare for an unexpected ass kicking!  It's EXHAUSTING.

Progress Update, Yo!

So I'm 4 weeks in with my nutritionist and 6 weeks in with my trainer, and I thought I should give a quantitative update as to how this is all going.

As of this afternoon at my nutritionist appointment, here's the breakdown:

Things I've lost over the past month to six weeks:

13.6lbs, 8.5 of which is fat
3.5 inches around my waist
2 inches of booty
Almost a full cup size

Things I've gained over the past month to six weeks (not quantitative, but still just as important):

Energy
New found self-respect
Pride in myself and belief in my abilities
A half pound of muscle
4 pounds of water (which, for me, is a good thing...even with the oodles of water I drink, apparently I'm chronically dehydrated)

Ok, this I will use as my "before" pic.  Because it is before I started any of this (like a year before, but still) and it is probably the least flattering photo of me ever taken.

Me, with my gorgeous sister, thinking deep thoughts in Fish Creek.

Yes, I'm sitting down and yes, I'm partially covered by a purse, but I don't care.  It's unflattering, old, and pre-fitness routine, so I'm using it, dammit.

Trespassing asparagus thieves, 2013.

Well then, here's another one from the same era (same weekend, actually, Memorial Day 2013).  I love this photo, but again, not so flattering.

This is what I looked like today:

Taco doesn't need to lose weight, but he's so cute he'll probably be in most of my photos.  You're welcome, world.

 Not that much different, to be sure.  And post workout, my hair looks like Conan O'Brien's (not a good look for me).  But the tiny changes I do see in my body are so gratifying.  

Baby steps, y'all!

The First Week

Picture it: Sicily; 1932.

Or Appleton, 2014.  April 21st, to be exact.  I got an amazing phone call.  A complete stranger had chosen me as the winner of a contest she was sponsoring, to win a year of free Anytime Fitness membership and 6 months of personal training.  I was so overwhelmed, I'm not even certain I thanked her during the phone call.

So thanks, Jen.  I can't say it enough...and I promise to you that I will pay this forward!

April 24th: I went to ATF to be "presented" with my awesome prize.  It was mortifying and awesome.  In some situations, I am completely comfortable being the center of attention.  Surprisingly, in many situations, I HATE being the center of attention.  This was a weird mix of both.  I made Jeff come to Anytime Fitness with me because I was so freaked out at the prospect of going and meeting a room full of strangers and having a "big deal" made out of myself.  #awkwardsauce (Yes, I know hashtags do not work on blogspot.  It's funnier if you read the "hashtag" part aloud, but I digress).

Anyway, everyone was super nice.  Like, so nice it was hard to believe they are actual humans.  But guess what; they totes are.

On my 32nd birthday, I met with my personal trainer, Donovan, for the first time.  He is excellent.  I was so exhausted after the first session, while at the same time feeling like I did embarrassingly little to be so winded.  Push ups, some chest things, squats (god dammit anyway, ouch), medicine ball slams (I pictured the a-holes on Fair St's heads during that part...it was awesome).  My body felt like Jello when I was done.  Holy shitballs, this is no joke.  I went home and passed out, then asked my husband to beat the shit out of me with a meat tenderizer (no lie, it was awesome).

The next day, I wanted to die.  My EVERYTHING hurt.  Even my toe muscles and earlobes.  I felt like I was 900 years old.

Welcome to Anytime Fitness, I'll be your creaking, ancient mummy.

But I went back to the gym that day anyway, because Donovan told me to.  I HATE when people call me at work for my professional opinion, and then blatantly disregard it, so I promised myself I would do whatever my trainer said to do.

Drop and give me 5 million burpees, woman, and make it snappy!

The next day, I worked out with Donovan again.  This time, in addition to all the shoulder stuff and step ups (yuck x 1 billion), I got to do rope slams.  Holy shit, is THAT fun.  And exhausting.  And fun.  Also, exhausting.  He must know that I have pent up rage under my nice lady exterior, because those rope slams sure are therapeutic.  Again, I imagined the ropes beating the crap out of those Fair St. fuckers with their lame DCShoe hats and saggy pants and hateful words and stupid faces.  Donovan said I could imagine his face...and I said "I still like you."  Kind of makes me wonder what fresh hell he'll have in store for me in the future.



Today, I went in and did cardio again.  But I was hella pissed...my new gym shoes (birthday gift from the hubs, which I tried on and picked out) hurt like a mofo.  My toes were numb and my arches burned like brimstone and hellfire.  I had to stop after only 25 minutes on the treadmill and bike instead of the 45 I had initially planned on.  So I went back to Rogan's and traded them in for a different pair today.  Here's hoping they're more comfy!

Tomorrow I have another amazing date with Donovan at the crack of dawn.


4 days down, a lifetime to go.

#amazeballs