The 2nd Annual Rose Run Registration Is Open!

Early Bird Registration is now open the 2010 Rose Run in Petersburg! Register online by March 1, 2010 and pay $20 for your registration fee. Pass it on.....let's make another fantastic event!

The Rose Run

For those of you that have been with me since day 1, you know that this is the event that got me started on this crazy adventure and inspired the name of my blog. I wanted to do something that was bigger than me for someone that I loved dearly who lost her battle to breast cancer and for her family. This event was a huge success last year and hopefully this year it will be an even larger success.

I won a free registration last year in the raffle drawing so I'm going to be running again in this event which guarantees some good entertainment for you all. If the wonderful cause isn't enough to convince you to participate in this event then the mental picture of me limping along while huffing and puffing should be enough to push you over the edge to register. Yes, you can walk but of course I love pain and embarrassment so I'll be running it again. I didn't require the lifesaving talents of Petersburg's volunteer fire department last year but you never know what this year's event will bring.

Here's A Downer With Your Upper

I have food issues. The same food issues that probably 85% of women in America have. I read an article by one of my absolute fave bloggers, Scary Mommy.

The subject, if you haven't already clicked on my link and abandoned me here to drone on and on and on....Oh, there you are. *Ahem* The subject is about being a mom who has food issues to a little girl who you don't want to pass on your food issues to.

This is me.

I start and stop or should I say fail diets all the time. I start new exercise routines almost as often. I find myself eating well for weeks and then blowing it all on junk that I crave. The good thing or maybe the bad thing, depending on how you think about it, is that I'm not alone in this behavior. Misery loves company and all that jazz.

I make a conscious effort to never ever say anything negative about myself or anyone else especially when it comes to weight issues in front of my little girl. I fail at this when it comes to myself sometimes though and that is the seed that I'm afraid will sprout in my little girl's mind when she becomes aware of body issues.

In the words of Scary Mommy: "Being a girl is hard. Having a girl is even harder."

He's A Brick House

I have a dog named Roscoe. When we got him from the rescue agency they told us they thought he was part Dachshund and part Basset Hound.

Take a minute to picture a dog that is shaped and is as large as a Basset Hound with the coloring of a red Dachshund and you have Roscoe.

I really think he might be part potbelly pig. Those rescue groups. Such tricksters.

Following is a conversation that I have with Roscoe on a nightly basis while I'm working out. Here goes:

**I'm getting into position to do sit ups...which means I'm laying on the floor.**

Roscoe: Jumping down from his perch on the couch..."What 'cha doin' now?"

Me: "Roscoe! GET OFF OF ME! ICK!" Pushing Roscoe's face out of mine...

Roscoe: "I was thinkin' when yer done there doin'...um...whatever that is yer doin' that you could get me a treat." Proceeds to lay very large Basset Hound sized head on my chest as I perform an exercise called the "Superman"...

Me: "Really? Because it doesn't look like you need a treat, buddy. I'm the one working out here and you haven't moved an inch."

Roscoe: "Yeah but just watchin' you work out makes me hungry...looook at me, I'm starving! You never feed me....enough table scraps...my rolls and barrel shaped body are thinning." Dramatic pause...

So, I figure that I should get extra credit for 1.) Working out with full grown potbelly pig...er..."dog" on my chest and B.) Reasoning with a hound dog about food on top of that.

Who's with me??!??

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.