Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Wise people choose bad first so they can end on a good note, so I'll be wise. I cheated. HORRIBLY. The first round of bootcamp was highly successful. You'd think I'd be in a size 4 now with the way I was eating and exercising like I was training for Rio 16. (Let's be honest, the only training I'll be doing for the Olympics is practicing typing "US SWIM TEAM" into the Google browser. Obsessively.) Anyway, I ended the first session down 10 pounds and a jeans size. Not too much of a change on the appearance but on the inside I felt soooo much better. Then we went on our annual "Lay Around On the Beach and Make Fun of People While Eating Any and Everything Known to Man Weekend Extravaganza". And it was awesome. Until I got home. Then I felt like utter cri-zap for a week because my body couldn't handle the binge I went on. I didn't work out for a week! This week I headed back to bootcamp and basically I'm back to jelly-legs and grandma lotion to soothe my totally out-of-shape muscles.
Now for the good news: I did get on the scale last week and it only showed a .8 gain. (Only after I threatened to take its batteries out if it didn't show the number in the tens position I needed it to show. In this case, yes, bargaining was successful.) Darlene even winked at me during a workout this week when usually she has that concerned look like she's thinking "um, is she going to pass out?" You should be proud. I've been promoted from Grade: Pukey-Needs-A-Respirator to Grade: Winking. I can deal with winks.
I feel like I'm back to decent number. My "paper weight" looks good. Paper weight, you ask? Oh yes. I have an actual weight and I have a paper weight. Actual weight is what the scale actually says. Paper weight is what I put down on paper when my weight is required on a questionnaire (i.e. driver's license, insurance forms, new doctor papers, i.d.'s etc.) Paper weight is usually 10-15 pounds below the actual weight. Don't even act like you've never lied on those things. I actually took my 'paper weight' a step further just a few months ago. I promise it was nothing illegal. The form was for some organization that wanted me to join and they asked me to fill out a survey. I had no intentions of joining so I expressed my creativity out on paper. It looked something like this (what I wrote is bolded, my comments as to why are italicized:
1. Name? Kristin Nicole Tanner Peeblays If Michael Buble can pronounce his 'b-l-e' like "blay" then I should be able to as well. And even better, my BLAY has an S.
2. Sex? Um, I'd really rather get to know you first.
3. Weight? Somewhere between "not too heavy for a strong, male firefighter to carry me down the steps of a burning building--but probably only a flight" and "heavy enough for a PowerWheels to break down when I sit on it".
4. Height? Just above the required height to be able to ride all the rides at any Disney-affiliated theme park.
5. Eye color? Dark almond with tiny flecks of gold around the center if you use the lighted mirror at any Clinique counter in the US. (I formerly taught writing so I'm a fan of adjectives.)
And so on and so on. I've written quite a bit tonight and I haven't even shared the biography I'm working on entitled "Aunt Flo: Now You See Me, Now You Don't". I'll save that story for another day soon. Until then, I'll keep working out, eating (somewhat) better, and starting my new non-fiction piece "Stupid Periods and Other Crap People Trying to Have a Kid Go Through: for Dummies". Good night.
Now for the good news: I did get on the scale last week and it only showed a .8 gain. (Only after I threatened to take its batteries out if it didn't show the number in the tens position I needed it to show. In this case, yes, bargaining was successful.) Darlene even winked at me during a workout this week when usually she has that concerned look like she's thinking "um, is she going to pass out?" You should be proud. I've been promoted from Grade: Pukey-Needs-A-Respirator to Grade: Winking. I can deal with winks.
I feel like I'm back to decent number. My "paper weight" looks good. Paper weight, you ask? Oh yes. I have an actual weight and I have a paper weight. Actual weight is what the scale actually says. Paper weight is what I put down on paper when my weight is required on a questionnaire (i.e. driver's license, insurance forms, new doctor papers, i.d.'s etc.) Paper weight is usually 10-15 pounds below the actual weight. Don't even act like you've never lied on those things. I actually took my 'paper weight' a step further just a few months ago. I promise it was nothing illegal. The form was for some organization that wanted me to join and they asked me to fill out a survey. I had no intentions of joining so I expressed my creativity out on paper. It looked something like this (what I wrote is bolded, my comments as to why are italicized:
1. Name? Kristin Nicole Tanner Peeblays If Michael Buble can pronounce his 'b-l-e' like "blay" then I should be able to as well. And even better, my BLAY has an S.
2. Sex? Um, I'd really rather get to know you first.
3. Weight? Somewhere between "not too heavy for a strong, male firefighter to carry me down the steps of a burning building--but probably only a flight" and "heavy enough for a PowerWheels to break down when I sit on it".
4. Height? Just above the required height to be able to ride all the rides at any Disney-affiliated theme park.
5. Eye color? Dark almond with tiny flecks of gold around the center if you use the lighted mirror at any Clinique counter in the US. (I formerly taught writing so I'm a fan of adjectives.)
And so on and so on. I've written quite a bit tonight and I haven't even shared the biography I'm working on entitled "Aunt Flo: Now You See Me, Now You Don't". I'll save that story for another day soon. Until then, I'll keep working out, eating (somewhat) better, and starting my new non-fiction piece "Stupid Periods and Other Crap People Trying to Have a Kid Go Through: for Dummies". Good night.
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