I didn't realize I could run (well, sorta...)

I've wanted to run a 5K for quite some time. I've always thought it would be pretty cool - the number on your shirt, the camaraderie between runners, the cool little cups of gatorade/water that get passed to you as you run...I've always thought that was pretty cool. There's just one little problem with my dream of becoming a runner - I don't run. Like, ever.

In high school, I played a lot of basketball - because my dad made me, or else he'd take away my car, and like any high school kid, my car was extremely important to my social life. However, I guess my dad had my best interests at heart - I wasn't a fat kid in high school and I'm totally a fat kid now. I'd say the one major difference is my activity level.

Last night, I got my run on. Granted, I couldn't go very long before I felt the need to stop and go back to walking, but dammit. I ran. I ran mailboxes. I remember my basketball coach telling us to do it and I thought it was such a stupid idea, but damn, it kicked my butt. I've noticed that most people have no idea what I mean when I say I "ran mailboxes" basically, it means you walk to a mailbox and then run to the next one, then you walk again - over and over. I proudly made it twice around our block without dying. I also did a whole lap around the block running. But then I went back in the house and promptly chugged water and wanted to die.

I can't believe I was actually able to run at all! I'm not going to lie, I didn't love it, but dammit - I do NOT want to be the girl who can't run if zombies come after me. We all remember the first rule of Zombie Land.

Brian often says that if the Zombie Apocalypse happens he's gonna trip me. Not if I'm faster than you and have better endurance, honey!


I WILL SURVIVE THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!

Weekends SUCK.

Our nephew had his 5th birthday party this weekend - YAY! We had a huge water slide and got to hang out with friends and family. It was great except for the fact that I was HORRIBLE about what I was eating and drinking that night. I had 3 beers (Mich. Ultra, but still - I'd sworn off alcohol until September 24th!), KFC and some grilled chicken wings that were out. I'm pretty positive that I killed my diet for the whole weekend that night.

Oh yeah - and I probably didn't mention that I was wearing a bathing suit during this party. This one, to be exact. So basically, I was at this party, noshing on pretty much everything in sight, and I was in that (and a coverup dress thing over it most of the time).

Here's the thing. That bathing suit? It's one of those magic eye miracle bathing suit things. I mean, look at it! It's all old lady-ish, with rouching in the center to make it look less like that's my flab that's bumpy there in the front. It's definitely not what I pictured myself wearing at 26.

Granted, I wore a two piece WAY longer than I should have - but apparently in my old age and current state of obeast-ness, I've decided to wear old lady bathing suits. Seriously!? I'm 26! I should be wearing cute bathing suits that show off my rack - not the same thing your 86 year old next door neighbor is wearing to the pool.

Weekends are my enemy. Brian and I get together with friends and family regularly on the weekends and it almost always revolves somehow around food - and many times it's a plethora of food laid out and we're all supposed to just eat when we're hungry. If I see food, I'm eating the food. I need to train my brain not to think that way. If it's there, someone should really be eating it - I just need that person to not be ME - I'm sick of the old lady bathing suit!

Wise Words

I totally stole that from my friend Mandy's blog - blog. the canadian one. I believe it's going to need to become my new mantra. I've printed it out and put it on my desk at work; you know, the place where I stress out and request for my boss to get me french fries from the McDonald's that is literally a stones throw away?

Hey! Check out my three hole punch! HOT!

That's what friends are for...

Whups, my bad. I didn't mean to get Dionne Warwick stuck in all of your heads.

Anyway, I've determined that this journey that I'm on was sparked by and will be fueled by the never ending support from my friends. One of my best friends from back home and since 6th grade joined Weight Watchers, lost 65 lbs (or more, I fail) and was just featured in Good Housekeeping magazine for losing weight with a friend. She's always been a little cheerleader in my life but she's been so helpful with everything surrounding my ever increasing waistline. I text her with "OMG I NEED FRIES!" or "What's better for me to eat before a workout?" and she answers without grumbling. I couldn't do it without her.

I also have a friend who is a more recent addition to my life, but has become just as much of a cheerleader. Yesterday I was in my first spin class in 3 months and I was about to die. DIE. During a quick break for the instructor to change the CD, I sent her a text saying I was dying and I still had 25 minutes to go - she texted me back with "You can do it! Don't think about the time." And afterwards, I texted her to tell her about my death by spin class and she congratulated me further. I'm an attention whore, people. I need others to approve and cheer me on!

Of course, there are others who cheer me on - and I couldn't do it without them. I realize I'm only on day 3 of this extremely long journey, but hey, it takes a while to make a habit and pushing me through this habit forming process is exactly what I need.

Motivation, people! Posting pictures of my chunkass self on the internet for all the world to see has helped, yes. However, when it comes to knowing someone believes in you and knowing someone is checking on you - ya gotta have friends.

Drive Thrus are EVIL.

Look at it. While it's not the most appetizing thing to look at in the world, I bet your mouth is watering a bit. The fries have the perfect sprinkle of salt, the bun on the burger has delightful little sesame seeds. Man, I love fast food.

Day 2 of the "Hold the Fries Diet" has been rough and it's barely past 2pm. I think I determined that a big weakness for me is the drive thru. I see a Burger King and think "ooh, they have good fries and the tendercrisp sandwich is epic." - who cares if this is a 9:15am? My brain ultimately will focus in on the delicious noms that a particular fast food eatery can provide me with - even if I have to wait until after 11am to get it.

You mean french fries don't count as a vegetable!?

So here's the thing. I'm 26 years old, recently married to the 32 year old man of my dreams - and we're fat. Brian likes to say we're "Obeast" - sweet, right?

At my current 215 lbs - I've got to do something. My dad always tells me to get the weight off when I'm young because it just keeps getting harder as I grow older - I hate to admit it, but he's right. I sit 90% of the time at work - and I'm sure not going out and getting a job that requires a ton of physical labor any time soon, so I assume this is the lifestyle I'll need to get used to - and my current lifestyle will need to make a few changes.

First thing's first - I've gotta move. Coming home, sitting on my butt and watching TV or sitting at the computer needs to be a thing of the past. I went to the gym at 5:30 this morning and survived - I'm hoping it'll become a habit, however, I've never liked AM workouts before; I'm not really sure why I'm thinking this might be a good idea. We'll just have to see how this works out. I'll keep it up as long as I can or until I start falling asleep at my desk. Whichever comes first.

As you might be able to tell by the title of this blog - I have a bit of a love for french fries. If I'm having a bad day, my boss, husband and friends know that an order of french fries will turn my frown upside down. I'm a little P.O.ed that I'm hooked on something so incredibly unhealthy. Oven fries aren't the same, so go ahead and hold on to that little suggestion you've got running around in your brain. I want my fries crispy from a nice soak in some bubbly fat. Bonus points if they're covered in cheese and served with ranch dressing.


It's my goal to help improve Brian's health as I improve mine. He's been diagnosed with high cholesterol and sleep apnea at 32 (!!!!) and I'm hoping to keep him around and torture him with my love and affection for another 50 years, so I'll be slowly but surely introducing new food items in our household. My husband is notorious for the phrase "potatoes/corn are vegetables!" and he pretty much hates anything green. I plan to change that.

I guess this blog is going to chronicle my life without fries (okay, who am I kidding? My life with fewer fries) and my journey to fit comfortably back in to my Lucky Jeans. All right, gut. IT'S ON.

Hasta la vista...blubber.

Starting Pics - not for the faint of heart - and no; I'm not pregnant - just fat: