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Showing posts with label flubber/5k. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flubber/5k. Show all posts

HEY! Derfwad...

This blog is dedicated to ones I luff.

All righty then Derfs. I have been stalking monitoring the traffic of this here blog for a couple of months now. Wanna know what I found out???

Really? You are too kind!

So, on a daily basis I get about 40 only the teensiest bit exaggerated hits. Yup you heard that right. Fourty. shuddup

Wanna know who visits my blog...huh, huh, do ya?

Well I am not telling.

OK! I suck at this big meanie thing.

Every hit I get on my blog is from the Derfwad Manor! OK, OK! There are 6 of you that are not affiliated with Mrs. G and her free wheeling gaggle of gals. Hey I'm not trying to lump y'all in. I'm just sayin'....


I was on a train of thought here!


Anywhat. For all of you Derfs and fellow Colony members please, mi casa es su casa. Come on in. Come, in!

Oh, don't mind that smell, it's just chicken poop. You'll get used to it. Here, let me just...... shove some of the laundry off the couch so you can sit down. There now, put your feet up. Can I get you anything?

FERN! Get in here and pick up your crap! We have guests.

Would you care for a cup of tea?? A bit of a snack, perhaps? It has been a long journey here, dear me, you must be exhausted. Are you cold?

HEADSTRONG! Get yer kadakus in here right this instant and bring in some fire wood, we have guests!

So, what shall we chat about? Oh, have you heard? I have lost a pound or 10 since I started "The Project" with Mrs. G. Really, you too? THAT IS SO FABULos! We TOTALLY rock! I even made the cutest little button for my blog. Omygoodness, I just have to show you. Even The Big G said it was "perfect". Look...isn't it sweet!



HEADLONG! Go tell that rotten, no good for nuttin', dog to shuddup! We have guests!

Oh will you just look at the time. It is getting late and I am sure that you must be getting back to your place...it has been swell. Here, let me just kick the Barbies and shoes and crap outta the way get that door for you. Watch for chicken poop on your ....

Way. Out. Sorry. It doesn't wash off well either . Umm. Next time bring your Wellie's mmm-K?

Thanks now and don't forget to comment write. A girl from the sticks sure does like to keep in touch, ya know.

Y'all come back now, ya hear!

5k Update

A while back Mrs. G started the 5k A** Project. So did I. I haven't been very faithful in posting my progress in the challenge but have made some headway non-the-less.

**I am having a hard time getting the computer to talk to the components or I would include pictures. Maybe by next week I will have something to post.**


Here are my current stats:

Weight:: 196 (not bad considering I have major PMS right now)
Still working out 3-4 times weekly
I have lost one pant size and have had to move up 3 notches on my belt.



I have changed some things in my diet:

Dr. Pepper free for 2 weeks solid.
Cut bread (good grainy stuff) intake to just 2 slices per day
Up'd water consumption

I am alternating between a heavy meal and a lite meal plan. By this I mean, one or two days a week I eat a little more than I normally would (ie: extra snacks, more protein) for a heavy meal day. One to two days a week I eat less and try to keep it lite, no heavy or greasy stuff. The rest of the week I eat just what ever and try not to over eat. Supposedly this plan is good for jump starting the metabolism and helps avoid diet burn out.


If I sound less than excited about all of this accomplishment, it is only the PMS talking. Pay no attention to the PMS. I am so grouchy right now, the only thing that will make me happy is the consumption of an entire pan of brownies.... for breakfast. :D

And just for your reading pleasure, I am including the comment my mom left me concerning my 5k endeavor, because it's freaking hilarious.


"Girls this is all too much. You have no idea; Mrs G's cute little squished up ass didn't motivate me to any where but laughter. So I marched my self to the mirror and I took pictures of what you're all going to look like when you're 70 and I'm warning you that it's enough to motivate God back into the creation mode. ( for which I'm anxiously awaiting) In the mean time someone made a law against such drastic motivation so you will all have to use your imagination, if you're brave enough to run the risk of blowing a fuse."

Thanks mom! Just the mental image of you trying to take a picture of your own butt...priceless!

Change is a verb.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired:

I have heard many an old timer use that phrase. Oh, they bemoan their life and I think, ' Why complain? You have no one to blame but yourself.'



I have no one to blame but myself:

I whine about all the crappy reasons why I can't loose the weight. I use extenuating circumstances as an excuse not to strive for a healthy lifestyle. All the while, I long to achieve greatness.




I long to achieve greatness:

Change is a verb. I will change the way I view myself. I will press on toward the goal. I will achieve more....



I will achieve more:

I will strive for a healthy balanced lifestyle. I will be positive. I will not feel guilt ridden when I stumble. I will achieve a fit physic.

5k Project

Whoosh!


OK so, here goes. Mrs. G started a challenge. Katie accepted said challenge. Katie is a chicken.


Mrs. G is hardcore. Katie is a chicken.

Mrs. G wants updates and pictures. Yup, you guessed it I. Am. A. Big. FAT. Chicken. (mmmm, chicken...with mashed potatoes and.....crap! Must snap out of it! Focus!)

Mrs. G has a desire to run a 5k Marathon. Katie has no such desire but does not want to be old, fat and out of shape, any more.

Mrs. G is on vacation. Katie is not. Katie is not having any fun. WHATSOEVER!


***Deep breath****



I am such a chicken that just writing this post is giving me an anxiety attack. (he..he..whoooo....I knew that Lamaze breathing would come in handy some day)


So for all the world to see here is my stats:

  • Height: 5'8"
  • Frame: Med.
  • Weight: way too freaking much
  • OK real weight: 202lbs
  • Supposed healthy weight for my height and build: 125-135 Sha! RIGHT! like maybe when I was 12.

Just a little back-story:

I got a little fed up with the way my wardrobe was fitting around about Thanksgiving time. I decided that I would try to reduce my weight but just not eating so much. It seemed that I was stressed out and pacifying myself with food. I would eat till I was stuffed! I then weighed about 240 (238 to be exact). So my big plan was to just cut everything I ate in half and only eat half of it. This worked wonders. I had a sense of accomplishment at my new found willpower and in the process lost almost forty pounds come January. However, since January I have stayed right close to the 200 mark, give or take a bloat or two. Obviously my calories in/calories burned ratio is off.

I am pear shaped and carry my weight on my butt and thighs. Although I have recently developed a new chin (or two) that has been driving me mad! I used to get compliments on my long slender neck. ' A neck like a ballerina' they would say. Not any more. This is the last straw. (read: Now, one might have thought that the last straw would have been when I got my butt stuck in a chair (w/arms) at church once. This was not the case. Just cause for more chocolate consumption. Not good the the butt reduction.)

Once, a long time ago, I took matters into my own hands and tried the Body for Life program. This was one hardcore program but I did it and achieved great results. That was however, before I blew out my knee and had two more kids. And got old.

***I will dig around and see if I can find the before and afters from the BFL program, while I contemplate whether or not I can take pictures of myself now.***

MY GOALS:

  • To set a healthy example for my kids.
  • To have more energy.
  • To be able to buy clothes off the rack that I know will fit.
  • To build up the strength in my bum knee so that I don't have another bad fall.
  • To have a healthy heart.
  • To achieve physical fitness and be healthy so that I will (hopefully) live a long and disease free life.

I will try to do updates weekly but can't make any guarantee's 'cuz I am flighty like that.

That Girl

I am that girl that you saw in Walmart today. The one with the screaming, mimi throwing, toddler. That was me, trying in vain, to convince him to shut up long enough to grab some rice, applesauce and folder tabs, with only a quick jaunt over to fabrics. I, so desperately wanted to go down the aisle with the duct tape. The temptation was too much for me to handle. My threat's met deaf (most likely a side effect of the blood curdling screams) ears. But how would you know any of this? You just lurked in the shadows, watching. Waiting.

I am that girl you saw standing on her head, butt crack showin', trying to force a billion pound bag of Jasmine Rice under the shopping cart. You gape in wonder at my behind. (yes it really does make African girls jealous, and NO I can't find pants that fit the dang thing) I am the one who, standing up red faced and adjusting all of her clothes, gave her 12 and 9 year old children the look of death for laughing. 'Just wait till your FATHER gets home'...........

I am that girl at the check out with the danger mite child who is determined to climb out of the shopping cart. You look to see if I notice the escapee. You draw in a sharp breath as I deftly snatch the air born toddler from the stratosphere and plop him back into the seat of the cart, barely saving his life. He is ungrateful. He screams like a banshee. You wonder if the clerk can move any faster.

I am that girl you saw in the feed store wearing pink cords, a sparkly shirt and ballerina flats. You gave me THE look. I was trying my darnedest to load the chick starter, oyster shell, dog food, rabbit food, chicken scratch and layer crumble into the back of my Suburban. I was trying not to get too schmutzy. You were repulsed by all of the Juice Boxes, Pull-Ups, Toys, McDonald's paraphernalia, extra Clothes and Shoes, I was trying to force out of my way in order to shove all the feed into the back of my truck. You wondered when I would go back to the city from whence I came.

I am that girl you noticed in the Goodwill. The one with a gazillion kids. The one whose kids were either pickin-N-flickin' boogers or peeling the price tags off all the glassware. Yes, it was I, who meandered over to the book nook, the one next to all of the noisy toys, just to annoy you. I told my kids to have at'ter. 'No fighting now, there is plenty of annoying junk for all of you.' You had the nerve to glare.

I am that girl.

The pesky shopper. The ridiculous farm chick wanna be. The goodwill stealer. THAT mom with the screamin' kid.

Thoughts for a Thursday

I was dragged from my slumber at about 2 am this morning.

I was SLEEPING!

Actually being asleep is a big thing for me. I don't sleep, I nap. I have Fibromyalgia and laying down for long periods is painful.

So, needless to say, I was sorta ticked off when my 4 year old came crawling into my side of the bed. Icy cold! "I am fah,fah, fahreeezzing, I need to sleep in your spot" he said. Being all sleepy and such I obligingly rolled over to make room, and am shocked out of my whits at the ice cold feet planted firmly on my behind! I had forgotten that I went to be in a tank and unders. Now these were not the normal everyday underwear us girls choose over those "special" panties. My washer is on the blink and has been for nigh on 2 weeks. Yes, you guessed it, I was wearing date night chonies. Around these parts we call them Friday Night Panties. These are much smaller than my day-to-day's, to which I lovingly refer to as my "Grannies".

I suddenly feel exposed. Very exposed!

So I decide that maybe I could tuck the blankets between us. What was I thinking? This disturbed the Inspector General who scoops up our poor frozen offspring and carts him off to his own bed, screaming like a mimi.

Well, I am a smart girl, so I stayed put and tucked my flabulous self back into the blankets. Several LONG moments later hubby comes back "freezing". Snuggling into my bubble space, he for some reason grabs a hold of my baby paunch. Not just that sweet little snugly fondle thing but a full on football hold. (Was he thinking touchdown??) I laid there frozen. Mortified. Should I jerk away in my shame, or just act like it wasn't me he was grabbin' and play dumb in the morning..........a thousand different escape plans ran through my head. Not one of them was feasible.

"Think... think. Think like James Bond!!" my mind screamed.

By now my darling husband is snoring like a lumber jack, hand still firmly grasping the hated pouch. After a few failed attempts to loosen his grip, I try to get up. The man won't give up. I am beginning to think that I will be stuck like this 'till 5am, or until he rolls over~heaven forbid! Visions of flying through the night air, not unlike a football to touchdown, flood my sleep deprived brain.


Now my hubby drives truck for a living. As a side effect, he also drives truck in his sleep. On many, many occasions I have been jerked (literally) awake, while my love is peacefully shifting his dump truck in his sleep, grasping a huge chunk of my hair!!


** Gasp you say? I have to agree.**


The fat glob grab is no different. With a firm hold on the "shifter" (IE: fat glob) he commences to "shift". I had to stifle a scream~leaping from the bed, I make haste for the commode. Trying to tuck my grossly stretched out fat back into my less than adequate undies.

( I am sure it wasn't that floppy before)

Lest I raise suspicion, I return to bed. Contemplating the purchase of a girdle and a new job for hubby.

I did not go back to sleep for fear of being "shifted" again.

Yoga

Wow! I just did Yoga for the first time in 7 years. This was an incredible experience. I had made a plan last night, got up early and actually did it! I made the Inspector an egg sandwich and sent him off to work, then got right to it. I laid out my mat and started the Sun Salutation right in front of the giant picture window that faces east. It was so awesome to do the Sun Salutation while the sun was rising. I had this almost out of body experience where my body seemed to take over and there was no thought involved. It was thrilling to let my muscle memory take over. I did, once upon a time, do Yoga faithfully for 3 years. I looked fabulous! I felt amazing! The yogi was jealous of my flexibility. Then came baby #3, followed by my blown out knee and Fibromyalgia. I have let my weight and emotions spin out of control for the last 6 years. Today, I put it all aside and did what I know to do; I centered myself and stretched muscles that haven't been stretched in far too long. I breathed deeply and let the stress fall from my body. I twisted into positions I was convinced I was too fat to complete (read: some of them cut the circulation off to my legs but I did them anyway, LOL) I must have been a sight wobbling and flopping around on my mat!

This morning my body worked for me, not against me; something that hasn't happened in a long time. I am floating on a high that I hope will carry me over 'till tomorrow morning, when I will rise to greet the day again.

Namaste

Week 10?? A day late.

Crikey! Week 10 already!?

OK, so.

I weigh the same as I did last week.

No changes.

Save one.

Annoying pants.

I have lost enough weight around my middle that all of my pants are freakin' hangin' my butt crack out. Every single time I bend over. Crack happens.

A belt you say?

Wehheeellll now! What a novel idea. Except. Pants that need a belt are not cute. They are lumpy and bumpy and just plain....nasty.

I need new pants. Fresh un-annoying, crack free pants.

5k week....??

I really have no idea what week in the "project" this is but that doesn't really matter.

What does matter is, that I get to do a little dance...shake a little flub...get down tonight. Yeah, you know, one of those no-one-is-looking-dance-like-Elaine-from-Seinfeld kind of numbers. Wanna know why?

Oh come on! I know you do.

193

That's why. That number, the one 7 pounds under 200, that is the reason I'm a dancin' this mornin'.

Weight lost despite the fact that I haven't exercised in weeks, makes me want to dance even more.

Still coughing and feeling terrible this week but gleeful for this one little victory!

What week is this?? ~5K

Well I feel terrible. Plain and simple.

Since the last time I posted I have completed the Dr. Pepper RE-saturation process. Which has since resulted in a 600lb weight gain. Hey, it feels like it, OK! This weight, could indeed be contributed to the massive amount of snot filling my head right now and not the Dr. Pepper at all.

Anywhat.

Have been too busy with homeschool to do much of any exercise. I feel like a big fat schmo! (I have no idea what a schmo is.....so if someone really knows, enlighten me please.) A 600 pound schmo with a burning desire to sit with a box of tissue and a Big Gulp.

**Pbbbbbttt**

Well I hope you other 5 k'ers are doing better than I. Here's to starting fresh.....after..... just one more D.P.
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