Does This Season Make Me Look Fat?

The season that is equally loved and hated by all people who could stand to lose a few pounds is here. It all starts very innocently with Halloween and all the "free" candy. You go from house to house with your kids and watch them in all their merriment and delight collect candy with their bright orange plastic pumpkin bucket. The moms, at least the ones in my neighborhood, follow the kids from house to house telling them to "SLOW DOWN!" or "WAIT FOR US!" or "STOP EATING YOUR CANDY BEFORE WE CHECK IT OUT-DON'T YOU KNOW IT COULD HAVE PINS OR RAZOR BLADES IN IT?!?!"

When really we just want to save the best stuff for ourselves.

You know you do it.

The Snickers, Twix, and Milky Way bars call to you like a siren song.

Just admit it and move on.

Then we get a slight pause before launching full force into the Thanksgiving season. This is another holiday that lulls you into the false sense of security because so many of the most popular dishes served have vegetables in them.

Vegetables = Healthy...right?

That cheesy casserole with some flecks of potato in there? Give me a second helping Aunt Sue!

How about another GIANT spoonful of that green bean casserole! EXTRA gravy, please!

Don't forget that everything is made with REAL butter and HEAVY cream. Of course, that's your dairy serving. Then there's the pumpkin pie which of course counts as a fruit serving...might as well have 2 slices. After all, you need your fruit. Oh goodness, I can practically hear my thighs getting bigger and my bum getting wider.

At least it's only one day! Live it up!

Yeah. One day. Plus the 5 days of leftover turkey-mashed-potato-cranberry-sauce-butter-dressing-gravy sandwiches. Yeeeehaaaaaw!

Then the mother of all holiday dinners comes to town. It's commonly camouflaged in red and green colors but it can't fool me. I know what it means.

I mean, besides the whole savior is born thing.

It means food. A lot of it. At many, many parties and get togethers. It means eggnog shakes at McDonald's. It means Grandma's peanut brittle. Yum. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Don't try to fool yourselves into thinking that this is just a one meal holiday either. It's meal after meal after party after get together. Throughout all of them, the constant voice at the back of our minds is:

"I'll eat better/start my diet/exercise more after the holidays."

I'm POWERLESS to the lure of this yum fest, everyone! I love the food of this season. I will eat the food of this season and I will enjoy the food of this season. Oh, yeah. You heard me right.

I'm. Going. To. Eat. Holiday. Goodies. And. Not. Feel. Badly.

Fo' shizzle.

Sorry about that minor gangsta white girl talk that just slipped out. I wanted to sound tough so you didn't harass me about my eating habits this season.

Seeing as the holidays fall during the Power 90 challenge that I'm doing, I hope to avoid any extra poundage and I would be happy to just not gain anything in the wake of cookies, pies, and eggnog.

Extra Gravy, Please.

It's the week of Thanksgiving and all through my house
Not a creature was stirring
Except for me and my stupid workouts.

My free weights were behind the couch
Hidden with care
In hopes that my strength training routine would not go there.

My sweatpants
They clung
To my thighs like cake batter.

My sportsbra
It suffocated me
Like a boa constractor.

(What? I know it's supposed to be constrictor but that doesn't rhyme with batter, does it?)

In the middle of my second set of sidekicks
There arose such a clatter
I let my foot fall
To see what was the matter.

I ran to the window
Threw open the sash (Um...What exactly is a 'sash' anyhow? a curtain?)
I could not figure out
What had made such a crash.

I returned to my workout
And when I raised that foot
My hip groaned like a dog
That was totally pooped.

It was then that I realized the sound that I heard
Was nothing but my body
Not wanting to be disturbed.

I laughed at those creaks
And those pops
And those groans
I didn't give up or even once stop.

I thought to myself

As I should have all along

"Happy Thanksgiving!"

I deserve a day off!

Working 9 to 5...or 6 or 8...or 24 Hours A Day...

I had to work late last night. Later than usual. I got home around 8pm or maybe a bit later. Who knows because all I could think about was the fact that I still had to injure myself...*ahem*...I mean, work out. All I wanted to do was get this workout done and over so that I could pour a bowl of my homemade chili for din din and chill out for about 3 minutes before the nightly demands started. I walk through the front door and see that my 6 year old daughter is fast asleep on the couch.

JACKPOT!

I can work out and then eat my dinner without having to stop and answer 50 questions about if I got her anything while I was at work, why the sky is blue, and why I'm the only one in the house that she wants me to cook her dinner.

I race upstairs and throw my shorts and Dukes of Hazzard tshirt on-because a Dukes of Hazzard tshirt clearly says: I'm a badass-and run downstairs to begin my workout. That's when I realize that I have something attached to my side. A cling-on of some sort. It comes up to about my elbow and has disheveled light brown hair.

The princess has awakened from her slumber.

"Mommy-I'm-hungry-will-you-cook-me-dinner-and-read-this-book-where-is-the-United-States-on-this-map-I-thought-we-lived-in-a glove-that-doesn't-look-like-a-glove-oh-you-mean-we-live-in-Michigan-INSIDE-the-United-States-I-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom-can-you-watch-my-food-how-much-longer-do-you-have-to-workout??? I'm bored."

It's truly a work out just to get to my workout.

Day 8...

My Power 90 adventure continues to be an eye opening event. I learn something new about my body daily it seems.

I, apparently, have an important muscle in my armpit region that I use a lot more than I ever thought possible when it comes to armpit muscle usage.

I lift my arms...my armpits hurt.
I lower my arms...my armpits hurt.
I pick something up...my armpit hurts.
I close a car door...my armpit hurts....

I'm sure you get the picture.

With my luck, by the time these 90 days are over I will not have flat abs but seriously toned armpit musculature. Oh, baby.

Where Is My Motivation, People? OH! There It Is...

Yet again I'm amazed at what an emotionally traumatizing event can do for one's exercise routine.

You're not following me are you?

Ok, this is the thing, you ever notice that when you get really angry about something...I'm talking RAGING angry about something that it gives you that extra little *oomph* in your workout? Well, something really got my goat in the last couple of days and it has got me madder than a wet hen. That means "really annoyed" for all you city speak folk out there.

I'm not going to go into detail about the reason my panties are in a bunch but it has got me goin'. The good thing about all this angst and pissy-ness is that my workouts are getting that extra kick in the butt which means more calories burned for me. I can practically see my assets shrinking!

Well, not really, but I'm convinced just being angry burns more calories than being happy or content. I sweat when I'm mad. Seriously. More than usual and I'm part Native American and French...there is a lot of sweating going on. Make me angry and I look like Billy Blanks in one of those Advanced Tae Bo VHS tapes! Except I'm white...and I'm a girl...and I'm not in nearly that good of shape...but the sweat! Billy's excessive sweating = my excessive sweating. There, that's the Clif's notes version of the whole sweat issue.

So there I am doing the cardio portion of my Power 90 program last night. To be specific we're on the "punching" section. I know I look ridiculous punching, I don't kid myself about the lack of toughness that I convey. However, my partner aka husband feels it necessary to heckle me while I go about my exercise.

"You look like a windmill that's gone horribly WRONG! You're confusing me!" This said whilst hiding behind his own raised arms. Like I'm some horrible mutant that has assaulted his eyes.

This just aggravates my anger which has gradually turned into rage and I start to windmill even more aggressively. All the while thinking: "I'll show him. I can punch and look tough with the best of them. I am an ANIMAL!"

Then it hits me...

No, literally, I hit myself in the mouth. Smooth. The only thing saving me is the fact that I didn't tell him and he didn't notice. I mean, it's not like I gave myself a bloody lip. THAT would have been hard to hide.

At least I still have the rage left inside of me for tonight's workout.

If I See A Shooting Star Tonight...THIS Is What I'm Wishing For...

Pain...Glorious Pain

Power 90 with Tony has re-entered the picture. I know in the past Tony and I haven't gotten along. I know I tried to replace him with other exercise routines but we just can't get enough of each other. I mean, it's not like we were committed or anything so he can't complain...we were on a BREAK! Well, 2 days ago I made a promise to stay with him and his Power 90 program for 90 days. Eek. You heard me right folks. 90 whole days...with only 1 rest day per week.

I haven't given up on running, I really haven't. Really. It's just that lately I've had to take a step back and re-evaluate my relationship with running. Not to mention I live in Michigan and it's freaking cold outside right now! Pair that with the fact that it's dark by the time I get home after work and how I loath running on the treadmill...well, you get the picture. So running and I decided that we should see other people for a little while; just until the snow melts or I break down and use the dreaded treadmill in the basement of doom. Don't worry, we're still the best of friends.

Back to Tony and I...if you've never heard of the Power 90 program before then you are in for a treat! It consists of 2 DVD's; that means I can stay warm AND dry while working out! I've never had my snot freeze to my face while doing Power 90, people. NEVER. Anyhow, the program starts off with Level 1-2 and moves on to Level 3-4 when you deem yourself ready. Which is semi-bad news for someone like me because *I* am never ready to move onto anything that is considered "harder" or "more challenging" but that's where my workout partner aka husband falls into play. He feels that "Oh, a week or so of this 1-2 business and we can switch to 3-4; NO PROBLEM!" All the while he has this crazed look of someone who has clearly lost his mind and doesn't comprehend the fact that for the last several months he has been not exactly what I would call...um...active. Let's face it, neither one of us are spring chickens either so let's not throw caution to the wind and end up breaking a hip or something.

*Ahem*

The program is alternating days of weights and cardio workouts that are 30 minutes a piece plus some stretching time with one day off a week; I've chosen Friday because that's my fun day and fun day to me does not = Power 90. Call me a pessimist if you want, I don't care. I've completed 2 workouts as I write this; 1 cardio and 1 weight training. I can sum the way I feel up in 2 words:

I hurt.

I can barely lift my arms past my belly button and it feels as though my abdominal muscles are actually trying to rip their way out of my body and move to another state. That means it's working though, right? Anyone?

Judging by my past experience with this program, the soreness should end in about a week until I level up and then it still won't be as severe as it is now. Mama can't wait for that day! I'm seriously, hobbeling around here like a drunken sailor but I'm not drunk or a sailor which is a bummer on so many levels.