Troop Beverly Hills What A Thrill...

There are a few movies that inspire me. Some have amazing plot lines and visual effects. Others have actors whose performances literally make you feel what the character is feeling. Then there are movies that are guilty pleasures. I hate to say it but sadly many of my movie choices fall in this category.

Enter Troop Beverly Hills.

Yes dear friends my guilty movie pleasure features the comedic timing of Shelly Long in her first full length movie debut with the guy from Coach. What does this have to do with my life? Well apparently I was a little too influenced by the theme of cookie selling. When a coworker of mine sold me a sob story about her friend's scout troop whose camping trip in the mountains would be dashed (DASHED! I tell you!) if they didn't sell enough cookies. What cold hearted person could I be to deny a girls scout troop a trip to the mountains. She even told me that they had never had s'more (s'more what? Your killing me smalls killing me. Sorry but where else would you put a good sandlot quote?) and that if I wanted to I could donate a box of cookies to a solider serving in Iraq or Afghanistan. (Wow. I actually spelled that right without spell check. Its the small victories you celebrate in life...) Well how could I say no?

Deny a person a s'more?

A trip to the mountains?

Campfires?

Plus a chance to help out the military?

I was gone dear friends. Before I could help myself I pledged for four boxes (2 samoas 2 thin mints) and completely forgot about my selfless service until yesterday. When this selfless service came back to haunt me. When at work arrived the cookies with my name on it. Well it wasn't a treat day so I figured I'd be strong and just put them away. Yet no matter where I went in my apartment there they were. Tempting me. So in they went into the cabinet. Yet I couldn't stop thinking about them and how lonely they would be because of me some girl scout troop was going on a trip to the mountains! A solider was getting comfort from home! This is when the selfless service totally became selfish. Because the Saomas were tempting me with their little O's of perfect chocolate coconut. So in came self justification. If I have two that's only 140 calories. I can have 2. So I opened the package and slid open the the little tray and saw them. And proceeded to eat 2 slowly tasting each perfection of happy bliss. But then I felt bad for the other two who had lost their friends. Wanting everybody to be together I ate the other 2.

Then the black out came.

When I came to there were no more Samoas (There is one box remaining) and a whole lot of cookie crumbs over me. It was bad. Really bad. Yet the sad thing is I'm kinda proud of myself. Where are the rest of the cookies now you ask? Wrapped up in wrapping paper and hidden in my freezer.

Where they will remain for now. Until I have another urge to do self less service.

What the?

I am sorry about the lack of post lately. But if you could see me at the moment you would completely understand and go I forgive you for the lack of entertainment that I have provided for you this week. As you all are well aware (if you haven't been reading go ahead catch up I won't mind) I declared that I was going to haul this fat body of mine running for 26 miles in May (btw? You all? Are invited to watch. Its going to be entertaining.) but because 231.6 pounds is not something I want to haul down the mountain (running no less!) I decided that I would support my local Gold's Gym.

I like the gym. Wait. Scratch that. I go to the gym because the spring in February ended and I can't run outside every day. So yesterday being all brave I went to a Gym class by myself. I figured if I am pushing myself for a full marathon what's a gym class. This is where I went wrong friends. This is where it went horribly wrong.

It was simply called Body ATTACK! I just loved saying it. Body ATTACK! Throw in a karate punch and its your social awkwardness goes waaay down. Trust me. So I showed up and realized I was in trouble when I spot the teachers. Aerobic Barbie and her Side kick Low Exercise shirt Skipper. (Now before you get preachy if you have to stop what you are doing in a middle of an exercise class to pull your shirt up and it still looks like you did nothing its too low.) How do I describe Body ATTACK? (HI YA that was the karate chop just so you know.) It was like a cheerleader melded with a Barbie and a Southern Baptist preacher. As we kicked, and did the pony (yes that classic dance move the pony) randomly Barbie would shout come to me! I need to feel your energy! Somebody doesn't have the energy! Is it you? and then point to the whole class. Which after six laps around the classroom doing the pony I had considerably lost the energy and began to mock them relentlessly in my mind.

Hence this blog post.

I have more to say. But arms too sore to type now.

Open Your Eyes.

If you haven't noticed I've been on a blogging absence. It's due to the fact that I at the moment have no life. Well I mean I have a life cause obviously if I was dead I couldn't write this sentence but still socially not so much. Tonight I went out with some of my Logan friends which is always exciting to go out to the capital city (aka SLC) and I didn't know what to wear. Lately my clothes consist of three options work clothes, running/gym clothes, and then pajamas. Its not that I have become this crazy exercise fool but really there aren't a lot of hours left in the day after work. But I have to say it must be working I went from being 235 to 232! That's three pounds! Yay! A pound a week. I didn't know whether to be excited or cry.

But lets get back to the dinner shall we?

I gave up coke three weeks ago along with extra sweets. With only one treat day being Saturday after my long runs (last's week big splurge? A kids hamburger and fries from Wendy's. Yeah it wasn't in my fat little hands more than two seconds before it got inhaled. I wanted it so badly I almost drove around again to get another one) . I have done great the last three weeks but today I was ready to punch a donkey. That and I was really kinda pissed for only losing three pounds. Curse the Biggest Loser and its huge losses each week. But to make matters worse we went to Wingers. The place were asphalt pie lives. Let me describe this for you. Its made out of mint chocolate ice cream (which is my favorite) slathered in hot fudge and caramel and oreos and whipped cream. Oh did I mention it has an oreo crust? I didn't eat it but the rest of my table did.

I would have run naked through the restaurant to have a bite. Why didn't I? Cause I have this marathon in May and I thought if I have just one bite that's a three mile run. With hills. Somehow the craving died. I still want it. I want it so badly. But I can't have it.

Curse you moral standards!

The Bridget Jones Moment has been relocated to Myfitnesspal.com if you are intersted in seeing what I shoved in my face please be my friend bfarru22 or look for the fat kid in the photos. I moved the tracker button over here so that you can see what's been losing. If you look closer you'll notice its my bff Jorge.

Why Is It So Hard Sometimes?

Why running? What in my right mind was I thinking? Because the rest of life is so mundane this is the subject in which I feel that I can control, to manipulate, and be taught by. I don't have to run. I don't have to do this marathon. But there is this annoyingly clever voice that says "Think of how disappointed you'd be if you didn't". So I go. I put on my clothes, I stretch and I run.

When the weather turns nasty and cold the bad part of me wants to stay in bed and read my book. But I had to do seven miles today. So I drove over to the parentals and picked up the running gear that I had drying on line (here's a little tip don't ever dry your gym clothes in the dryer. They die faster that way.) and went to the parkway. It was lonely and grey. Not a person around. Just me and the pavement. There is a moment before you start running its like a hesitation almost like before you begin a prayer you stand there and then you let yourself go. In my mine its like a nike commercial slow but determined the focused look. (In reality it probably looks like the picture in the last post but I can dream right?)

There is something we all do as people we can't explain to others. For some it is the deep abiding love for Edward the vampire, for others its watching American Next Top Model, but in the end it is our strange passions that connect us that if used rightly make us stronger. But its when we put ourselves in narrow boxes that I believe problems start.

I'm a runner.

Who are you?

Hide Your Kids Hide Your Wife...

Just to show the world that running isn't pretty.

Take Me or Leave Me

I declared war last night on the Curry in a hurry neighbors. I tried to be nice. I tried to be friendly but lets face it. At 12 in the morning who is a nice person? I'm not. So there that. Now I just wear dark clothes and sneak around my complex afraid they are going to find me.

In more exciting news I went to body combat yesterday thinking that while my legs would look very nice this year the top half of my body would look like the pillsbury doughboy. Not a very flattering picture no? I was going to write this last night but I couldn't move my arms think of penguin trying to type. It wasn't a pretty picture. Today's goal is to do four miles. Every night I see the road I have to run in May and I tell myself that I can get there. That I'm strong enough.

So I'm going to enjoy this last bit of nice weather before the snow hits.

A Happy Birthday and A Lovely Holiday...

I usually loathe and hate Valentines Day. Loathe it for awful middle school memories of people's lockers busting with valentines and flowers you could send each other in class and mad at myself for not being brave enough to send a valentine to the girl I liked. So I went on hating this holiday till I realized that I would split the day in two and celebrate it for what it truly is. My Dad's birthday.

Yes my dear father has a birthday.

How old you may ask?

50!

Which is pretty amazing because my father is in better shape than I am. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful Dad who has taken the time to get to know me, support me in my odd interest and most importantly be calm. When my sister and I did something really stupid we would always tell our Dad because we knew that he would at least remain calm and help us deal with the situation instead of berating us for how stupid we were. In stead of How could you we would get well how are you going to solve this situation?

For his patience. Every Saturday during the winter we would go skiing. He would take the time to ski with us, show us our turns and help us get in control of the sport. It must have been frustrating at times when it was great ski day but I never remember him being upset about it.

I hope that when I have children I can follow his example. He's made his mistakes and I have too but as life goes on it seems we are okay with it. So happy 50th dad!

P.s It's also my cousin Donna's Birthday too. She's awesome!

Bridget Jones Moment.

Week 2 totals of running 16.57.

Meals coming later today.

Forgot to write down Sunday's.

Barbie Girl

So here I am in all my glory. At the ocean wearing a shirt I've had since the 8th grade. (What? It's now Vintage...late nineties are so in right now) and tonight I'm frozen here in my chair. Why you ask? Cause I'm so exhausted. The war has been declared on the international neighbors below me. I've put up with the smoke in my apartment (I smell so sexy just like the marlboro man only you know alive.) and the random food smells that oddly smell like Curry in a Hurry. With school getting ugly for a lot of people there had been a truce declared and the smells ceased.

So off I went to California hoping that my neighbors either got deported or moved. Apparently my fervent prayers were interpreted to mean please play Backstreet Boys with the heavy base line at 11:30 at night and smoke pot.

There is so much a person can take before they crack. And I cracked friends. I cracked like a fried egg on hot sidewalk in Death Valley in the middle of July. I went down there to the smoker den and banged to my heart's content.

When the door opened I suddenly saw rainbows and had a sudden case of the munchies.

Pot head 1: DUDE!

Me: (Seriously? Dude is the line you use when your pissed off neighbor comes downstairs in his pajamas and fake ugg boots you want to use the word dude? this is what I wanted to say. What I said was You playing bad 90's music can you please just turn it down. Thanks.

Pot head 1: DUDE!

Me: Alright. Just turn down the base so that my floor will stop vibrating? Please?

Pot head 1: Ok Dude.

So guess what happens next? You guessed it. I want it that way at level 11. That's when I yelled Uncle and camped out at the parentals. Now those of you who remember me in my RA days are going what happened to calling the cops and making them do a roommate agreement? The answer is I couldn't find my name badge and I was way too tired to care. But I did call my landlord and kindly suggest that she look for munchie plants.

Oh guess what's making an appearance today?

THE BRIDGET JONES MOMENT!

The one person in the audience goes YAY!

So here's the deal folks. I'm training for the Ogden Marathon and I've gotten rather large see exhibit A (The picture above) I'm not on a set plan this time rather I don't eat after 7 gave up the coco cola and so far it seems to be working.

Weight 235.20 (I was 237. 50 last week so lets be grateful)

Run: 4.34

Breakfast

Quaker oats with Cinnamon

Lunch

Turkey Sandwich on a multigrain hoagie, reduced fat mayo, mustard, baked lays, and a banana.

Dinner

Quizoa, broccoli and salmon baked in lemon juice, and pepper, and a splash of olive oil.

Snack

Banana slice, on wheat toast.

It Happened In Monterey

So I know I promised a post about Bionic Barbie and my (OH!) so fun day at the gym but I needed a boost so why not share my pictures with y'all. So I made sure my pictures are sanitized for your protection. First stop on 17 mile drive terrible picture of me but look at the trees and its green!
Karisa looking at the ocean.
Loren looking forlornly at the surfers.
Ocean!
Me standing in front of the ocean. The best part was the truck that was here just a few moments before I took the photo. On the bumper it said "Overpopulation is a sexually transmitted disease" and "Uppity Women of the World Unite". I tried to take a photo but I was afraid the woman was going to shoot me so picture it in your mind will you?
Me standing in the ocean.
Me on the beach. With the ocean.
The lonely Cyprus Tree. I had to punch out a couple of Japanese tourist to get this photo. Sorry but I had to get it!

Last but not least the Nugget! It traveled all the way to Monterey. It brought back a lot of memories. This is for you Em!

Brick

(Ten points if you can guess what song I was listening to when I wrote this)

There is something magical about a road trip. I'm sure when Henry Ford mass produced the model T that he didn't know the power of the open road, the promise of Monterey and Carmel, and bottles of Mexican Coke. I saw the beauty of a flooded Great Salt Lake light up the Salt Flats just before sunset. If I could have I would have taken a picture but it wouldn't do it any justice. After Darkness hit and a surprise visit to the bathrooms in West Wendover. (At the Chevron? They have granite counter tops and the floor wasn't sticky. I know I have high standards) and off we were. It was a night of conversation of crazy topics and trivia and when the Mexican Cokes ran out we (well I Loren had his energy drinks) juiced up on Slurpees.

There is something magical about California. Southern California has its San Diego and Disneyland but Northern California has Monterey and Carmel, and San Francisco. But with the sun recharging my batteries and four runs in the 75 degree weather and to walk where Steinbeck walked? Oh it was heaven dear friends. Pure heaven. To dance in the Ocean in February? Yes please! To feel that delightful rush of cold and warmth that wasn't from running from my warm bed to the cold awfulness that is Utah in February. To stand at the Ocean and say Here I am in my smallness.

But it sparked something in me. It sparked something I didn't know I had lost. This trip gave me my hope back. Hope that I'll be able to get somewhere in life. Hope that somebody will say I love you and it won't be Momma Joye. Hope that somebody will want to read my written words but more importantly it sparked my commitment that I made to myself back when I was 19.

To run a marathon on my 26th year.

Hello Ogden Marathon! (Why Ogden? Cause that's where I was born and raised yo.)

Its going to happen. I may have to hobble but I'm going to do it. So to all of you that have to listen to me about running till May I am so sorry.

But more importantly I'm going to keep this little fire glowing as long as I can till the greens return and the blues and the yellows and the purples dance on the mountains.

Come run with me.

Please?

(Tune in tomorrow about my Date with bionic Barbie and her Super fun pals!)

That's Just the Way We Get By

I don't have a washing machine. Yes I realize that this is a totally lame opening for a post but lets go with it shall we? Because I don't have a washing machine and I am incredibly lazy I let my clothes take over the bedroom floor and when I fall more than three times trying to get to the bedroom door so that I can go to the bathroom is usually when I cry uncle and hoof it over to the Momma's house. Where I throw in huge loads of laundry and use their complementry cable service.

Since the loads of wash were mountainous I had a lot of free time. So what did I do? Watch 2 episodes of TLC's I Didn't Know I was Pregant. Which gave me the inspiration for a new TV show called I Didn't Know I was Fat. Where a whole bunch of us fat people could share their life stories. I'd watch.

What about you?