We ran for our harvest! Just kidding, we walked. But we didn't DIE.

Remember a few months ago and I told you I was training for my first 5K since my AFE? Well I did really well that first month. I did alright the second month. I did absolutely nothing my third (and most crucial) month. I mean, I did NOTHING. No walking, no jogging, no exercise at all. I did nothing. 

Then I realized the 5K was THAT WEEKEND and I was (rightfully) a little bit worried. 

I mean, I was fairly confident I would finish. I have never, ever been picked up during a race and I was not about to start that tradition now. My fear was the condition in which I would cross that finish line. 

Thankfully, I had my friend Amy with me, and THANK GOD, because had I been alone.... that would have been a sad state of affairs. I know I would have cried. Alone, like a loser. I am pretty sure Amy was trying to keep me talking the whole way so I wouldn't be thinking of the fact we were dead last for most of the race. (Which thank god- because Amy is the best and I am so, SO glad she agreed to do this with me!!!) 

Morning of the race was actually pretty gorgeous out. It was chilly, like mid-30s, but it wasn't awful. If you kept moving it wasn't really that bad, but I am really glad I brought my mittens because I ended up wearing those the entire time. 

Duluth, you're so pretty. 

And you know it. 

The cool thing about this race is that it is almost totally along the shore of Lake Superior but in order to get to the start line, you ride the North Shore Scenic Railroad. It drops you off and you start walking. 

It was kind of cute because as we were pulling up to the starting line, this older couple were standing there waving and suddenly the guy starts running alongside the train!! It was a fun start to the morning for sure. 

This was us, pre-race. We ended up not talking one after the race but I kind of forgot which was probably for the best. Ha! 

Hilariously, once we got off the train we were walking at a pretty decent clip, feeling motivated and like we've got this. 

We got what would be a few city blocks down only to realize we hadn't even crossed the start line yet. 

That was kind of a morale killer. 

So once we got started for real, I felt like we were pulling a pretty good clip. I thought that surely we had some folks behind us and that would be fine. There was a guy, who I think had some disabilities of some kind because he had a guy with him who was motivating him. Telling him to go faster so he'd run a little while and this guy was just walking. Anyways, Amy realized this guy was using us as a pacer. Every time we caught up, he would have this guy run and so he'd take off. After awhile it got a little frustrating because that puts us dead last and by mile two I was starting to feel my morals take a dive and I decide that if we are pulling up to the finish and I see this guy, I'm willing to sprint and push people out of the way. I'm not coming in last. NOT TODAY, SATAN. 

Also by mile two I feel like my cortisol levels are taking a total nose dive and you know those old Energizer Bunny commercials where he starts to slow down and eventually stops? That is exactly what I feel like- it's like I can actually feel my ability to function slow down and then I just can't. I know I hung onto Amy at least once and I'm like- please god just let me finish this because I had enough people telling me this was stupid, I shouldn't be doing this race, I'm going to be sick, etc. Doctors and people who know me had been telling me variations of that for weeks. 

And justifiably so because I really hadn't done anything to show them that I think I actually can do this. 

But by about 2.5 miles in we pass the guy and his coach and I'm like.... if I can just keep this pace... I'll be OK. Granted, this pace is ridiculously slow. By the time I could see the finish line, I actually thought I was going to collapse. 

But we finished. 

I got excited knowing that guy was behind us so we didn't finish last. 

BUT. 

According to the website, her and I came in last for walkers. That guy must have registered as a runner. 

Obviously, that is my worst time for a 5K, for running or walking. 

BUT! 

I am trying really hard not to thinking about how far I've gone down in fitness but focusing on the fact I finished a 5K when everyone said I couldn't. I actually FINISHED. 

In the aftermath, I can't say that I've done a whole lot of fitness stuff, but I can say I'm honestly thinking about it more. I'm pumping myself up. I remember doing this before and that led me to losing a lot of weight, running 5K's regularly, and exercising a lot. So in my time of mentally preparing myself, I've been following Running Fat Chef online through her blog, Facebook, and Instagram and just really listening to what she's saying. It also made me reminisce about the time when I was really hard core about fitness and I did a Weightloss Challenge. Do any of you guys remember that? I only vaguely did but I know going back to watch all of my old vlogs was kind of hilarious, kind of made me cry because I miss that Sara a whole lot, but also made me feel like maybe I can do this again. 

So let's do this again. 

Go back and see my first vlog and we're going to kick this off. 

PS) You guys, it's taken all this time but I finally understand the accent you all say I have. I feel shame. I hate that I have an accent. GAH!! 

Weight Loss Wednesday.. doing it, doing it, doing it now

Despite having a ROUGH couple of weeks, I've actually been pretty alright with my weight loss goals. I haven't lost any weight yet but I have been active almost every day.

March 26 - 31: I rode on my recumbent bike every day before lunch for 3 miles, 25 minutes. I've been doing that as Penelope and Lucy's lunch is cooking and that's kind of an ideal time to do it.

April 1 - 8: I rode on my recumbent bike every day for 3 miles, 25 minutes again, AND I did the Beachbody YouV2 program twice that week. That's a fairly low impact workout that lasts 30 minutes. I can't make the full 30 minutes but I'm working my way into it and the most I've done is 17 minutes and that was exhausting. I have to skip a day in between because it takes a full day to recover and be able to move. I also went for a 1.5 mile walk one night at the YMCA with my friend Tammy.

So far this week I only have done my recumbent bike once, but tonight I'm back at it plus I'm going to the YMCA to walk with a friend. I might go by myself on Thursday, we'll see. Friday for sure. I have to start getting use out of my membership plus getting out of the house will be helpful for me.

I downloaded the MyFitnessPal app again onto my phone and I can't remember my username. Sorry. But I have been doing well tracking my meals and I'm WAY under my daily calorie intake allotment so I'm not sure why weight isn't just falling off of me. Maybe it's my medications but I'm on such a low dose of steroids, I don't know if I can blame that anymore. Maybe. It's frustrating, though.

Next week I have my photo shoot and I still look pregnant, and even better, I have the equivalent of diaper rash between my fat rolls on my stomach by my c-section scar. So hot. I've never had that as a common occurrence before so that's something.

Alright. I'm going to keep at it, keep trying.

Weight Loss Wednesday: Screw you, body.

Last week I was pretty down on myself, and it's hard not to be. This week I have decided that even if I can't lose weight, I'm going to do something every day to exercise because I can't get any worse. I'm going to try really hard to maintain where I'm at if nothing else, I don't want to keep setting records for my worst weigh in yet. 

So. 

Every single day last week (except Sunday) I went three miles on my recumbent bike. It takes me about 25 minutes to do it and I have it on the third resistance setting so it's not super taxing but it isn't easy, either. 

On Monday I did my mile on the treadmill. Admittedly, I could have (and should have) done more but I'm going to fix that this week. If I can get two days on the treadmill in, I'll consider it improvement. 

If you are a long time reader of the blog you will likely remember my brief stint with vlogging. I was at my peak of fitness during those and I was working hard to do 5K's and I was able to briefly get down to a size 10 pant. 

Sigh. 

I miss her. I miss her for a lot of reasons, not just because she was a fit bitch, but because she was really the best version of me. I don't know if I can get back to that but if I could just get a little of that spark... I feel like I could move mountains. 

Weightloss Wednesday: Oh hello, WEIGHT GAIN

You guys, I'm struggling. I'm struggling with actually doing. I have the motivation, I have the ability thanks to my ridiculously amazing inhaler, but I don't have the gumption to get up and go.

No gumption to do it.

I've got my six month YMCA membership, I've used it once for 30 minutes of walking the track. I've done my Beachbody YouV2 workouts and I hate them but I'm trying to mute the guy and play my own music but man, half way through I'm like, "It's OK, I'll just be fat, it's totally fine!".

Then I go to the doctor to get my six month endocrine check and hello 210 pounds, did not miss you but here we are. Besties again.

Where do I find the gumption?

Knowing that I'll be practically naked for a photo shoot wasn't enough of a gumption-getter.

I don't know what will be.

Workout Wednesday: So maybe my lungs AREN'T so hot.

I can't remember when I talked about maybe needing an inhaler because I didn't do so hot with my pulmonary function test. As it turns out there is something to that. I tried to do a walk/run on my treadmill after a particularly stressful afternoon and I could not stop coughing afterwards. Not just that but the cough felt wet, like I had fluid in my lungs. 

I can only assume that's not normal. 

So back to doing minimal working out until I can figure out how to deal with that. I've been trying to do the Beachbody YouV2 program and man... that guy is so annoying. Ugh. 

 On this particular day I finished day one but I could only do it by muting him and playing my own playlist. Infinitely better. 

I continue with my recumbent bike and as you can see I do it among the chaos of toys. Sometimes I read while I'm doing it and that helps make the time pass without me counting down the time miserably. Sometimes I'll text someone or peruse Facebook and Instagram and catch up on what my friends with lives are doing. I really can't wait until spring and I can walk outside. 

We filled out an application for a scholarship for a YMCA membership and I'm kind of scared but I think it would be good for me. It would give  me an excuse to leave the house, and I know enough people who take classes that I could buddy up and not be alone should I pass out or something crazy. 

Workout Wednesday: Stella needs to find some groove

I'm doing such a horrible job working out, I'm almost ashamed I'm even talking about it. I think there are only two things keeping me motivated to try, this blog and what I have planned in April.

First up, you guys are HARSH but in a good way and I need to be called out on my crap when I suck. And right now? I suck. I know it, you know it, we all know it. I will tell you that this week I've done my recumbent bike a few times for at least a mile each time and I've done my treadmill twice. Fun fact, tomorrow I'll talk about my visit to the pulmonary place for testing, but guess what? You guys- my wheezing is a thing. It's not just me being fat, there's something not super with my lungs. So last night I ran on my treadmill for a song and then walked for another 10 minutes and swear on your life, my lungs were on FIRE. I had a wet cough, wheezing, my chest felt like it had been hit by a semi, the whole bit for almost an hour afterwards. I did the doctor online thing and they recorded this in my file (in case I forget by the time I get to my appointment which is 100% likely) and told me not to do that again until I see them. So I'll stick to my bike for a bit and hope for the best.

But you guys, it's practically February and I have this thing in April. I need to lose like 60 pounds by then, ideally.

Ha!

On Black Friday I decided on a complete whim, after being complemented on my eyes online by a lovely women's group, to sign up for a boudoir photo shoot. I almost did one years ago but couldn't because Matt's grandma was having a birthday party the same day and that was more important considering it was her last one, literally. But I wish I was as fat now as I was then because shit, bitch- I was THIN compared to now. This time I am going into it 100% terrified knowing full well my body is not in any way sexy. I'm reading a book right now where the character is in the process of losing weight but still sees herself as massive and everyone around her assures her she's hot, she just doesn't see it. I hope that's the case here but man... I don't feel it. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm just glad that I didn't do March or February, I still have some chance to tone something up. These photographers are amazing though and everything I've seen has been incredible and beautiful so I'm cautiously optimistic. I'm giving them (hopefully) to Matt as an anniversary present but it's a surprise!! Don't tell him. I might be more nervous to give them to him because in a previous conversation, AFTER I booked this, he mentioned how he thinks this kind of thing is dumb so that's great. Hopefully they'll be so great it'll change his mind.

I just really wish it were summer, or at least warmer, so I could get outside for walks. I might actually take up mall walking because I feel like I could find a friend to do that with me at least. Matt went down to a local agency to see if we qualify for a reduced cost YMCA membership because no way could I afford a full priced one, but I know I have friends who go there and I do better with a buddy. I need someone to do things with me, preferably someone in just as rough of shape as me. Ha! That way we can trip over equipment and feel like we are going to die together!

What are you doing? Are you doing anything to stay in shape in 2018? Have you ever done a boudoir photo session?

You spin me... to the ground.

I know Workout Wednesday was technically yesterday, but I'm still posting this week to keep myself accountable. I can't even remember when the last time I posted about a workout, and I'm going to be honest, I fell off the wagon as hard as a fat girl could. It's not that I don't realize that I have to start losing weight, but I've really struggled with energy and my entire body hurting.

Long story short, it almost always feels like I have been hit by a car. It reminds me of when I was pregnant with Olivia way back in 2005 and I knew something was up because everything hurt, even my hair. Turns out I was pregnant. This time I can't be pregnant, but they suspect it's just that my body is just out of whack, which is so exciting to hear.

Another challenge I'm facing is that I'm taking steroids for my Sheehan's Syndrome and it's true what they say, steroids make you fat. They make you fat even without over eating.

It's totally depressing.

One thing I've wanted to try is a spin class. Thanks to my local Facebook friends, I learned there is a local gym that has an evening spin class and I can pay as I go. Which is nice because I can't afford a membership anywhere and I really can't go more than once, maybe twice a week, to make a membership feel like I'm getting my money out of it. So I found a friend who wanted to go as well and we went.

You know what nobody told me about spin classes? That your butt is going to hurt and it's going to hurt a lot. My butt was screaming within a minute and the class hadn't even started yet. I will say though, the 45 minutes flew by. I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to make it through the entire class, minus three breaks for less than 30 seconds each, mostly just to get feeling back into my butt. I'm hoping to go again soon because while I don't think I'm going to lose a ton of weight doing it, something is always going to be better than nothing.

Then I decided that February is going to be my 30 Day Shred month. But since February is a short month, I'd start in January. My goal? Not feel like a gross whale for my birthday. If all goes according to plan, my friend Tammy and I are going to Las Vegas for a long weekend/mom's break/my birthday celebration.

And you know what? It sucks as much as I remember it. This will be my third time doing it and this time is, hands down, the hardest. I am so out of shape and it's defeating. Did I even complete day one? No. No, I didn't. I did about half and I had to quit or take a break. I know if I keep at it, I'll have my endurance get better and I'll be able to complete the entire workout. So think positive things. 

My current weight is 220 and my goal weight (where I was pre-Penelope) is 160. That's a LONG road to go. Little bit at a time. 

Emotional eating and math are the worst.

I have a feeling this post is going to upset a few people, maybe in the very least piss enough people off where they feel like saying incredibly mean things about me and declare I am "the worst parent in the world" on Twitter. You know, like the time I dared to complain about a Disney theme park.

(That's a true story, by the way. For weeks I had the worst emails of people actually threatening to call CPS because I complained about dirty tables and the horrific prices on bottled water. Here's a lesson for you, don't ever bad mouth Disney EVER. There are legions of fanatics that will cut you.)

Anyways.

So as most everyone in the world knows, I gave birth to Penelope on April 29. To be fair, I wasn't in stellar shape before I had her. I just wasn't. I wasn't morbidly obese or anything, but I was overweight for my height and I knew that I could, and should, be doing better. But like most people, I don't enjoy exercise, I love chemically processed foods, and I enjoy eating those chemically processed foods.

Throughout my entire pregnancy I gained the normal amount of weight. I watched what I ate and the portions of what I ate. I went on walks fairly regularly and I was really active through my whole pregnancy, even more so towards the end, really. When I gave birth to Penelope, I weighed 193 pounds. Keep in mind, I am only 5'3 (and a quarter, because every little bit helps) so that's a lot of weight on my stature.

Two days before I gave birth to Penelope

Even through my pregnancy I was following Instagram posts that tell you to "take back postpartum" and "be proud" of your post baby body. Those stretch marks are like war wounds! You created a human life, you shouldn't be ashamed of the vessel that made them! 

And yeah, that's all true. It is. It's not to say that I'm not proud of my body. Every day I stare at all three of my kids and am blown away when I think of the fact that I made them. With my own body. Even as Penelope was gently put into my arms, I was amazed to look at her and know that every part of her grew in me. All of her organs, her vital life systems, those were all on me. I did that. It's easily the biggest job a person can have. Just the miracle of life and the science on how a human is conceived, nurtured, and born is amazing. I can't downplay that at all because it's all a fascinating process and until you are right there in that moment I don't think you can really understand it. To know that you created a life. Maybe one of my kids will be famous or do something great in the world and I made them. 

So it's clear that I fully understand what a big deal being pregnant, and giving birth, is. I get it. I'm proud, and I would do it again and again because it was that great. I enjoyed it that much. 

But now I'm only carrying myself around. And I don't care what anyone says, we can fake it to the world, we can declare how proud we are, but somewhere in every mother, there is that little voice that will remind you that you weren't quite as flappy before kids. That voice reminds you that, once upon a time, you were quite the looker. You were a little thinner. A little firmer. You didn't quite feel like everything was all going to hell. 

Maybe it's aging. Maybe this isn't related to having a baby at all, maybe this is the war we fight with aging. Not wanting to let go of what once was, accepting what it is now, and being slightly terrified of what's ahead. 

Whatever it is, it's awful. 

Right now I am in an awful place and it's the worst. It's particularly bad because you do have kind people who'll say, "Wow- you look SO great!" and in my head I'm rolling my eyes and saying, "Um, no. Because you don't realize I'm still wearing my maternity jeans because it's holding all of the flappy skin and fat in, but thanks." You aren't really supposed to say that you feel like crap and hate your post-partum body because people automatically assume you don't love or want your kids ("I would KILL to be able to have a baby!") or maybe they aren't happy with how they look ("But Sara, you just had a baby. It takes 9 months to gain the weight..."). 

I love my kids, I want them all, and I know I just gave birth. I get all of that. 

I'm still feeling fat and I still hate it. Sorry. 

 Currently, I am still 5'3 (and a quarter). I am now 198 pounds.

Yes, you did your math correctly, I am five pounds heavier now than I was when I gave birth. Mathematically, Penelope was 9 pounds when she was born so I should be at least 9 pounds lighter. But NOPE, the world of mathematics and science clearly hates me because it's not working in my favor. And when you look at my pregnant picture and one from last night after my run, it's like, how in the WORLD are you heavier now?

I HAVE NO IDEA, FOLKS. Same scale, nothing has changed.

But here I am.

In the past I was an absolute emotional eater. I mostly ate out of boredom, and it is something I still struggle with. Mostly now my issue is lack of time. I am hardly eating, to be honest. I eat my fiber and protein granola bar in the morning during Penelope's nap, drink my bottle of water and glass of orange juice.

At lunch time, if I'm super lucky, I can eat a quick sandwich and either an apple or grapes, more water.

It's her afternoon nap that is the hardest, I really want to just eat ice cream or crap because I'm tired and bored, but that's when I'll read or do housework to curb that.

At dinner, I make a healthy meal and if I'm lucky, I get a little bit. If I'm not, I go to bed hungry. Sometimes if the day is particularly awful, I will go for my walk/run just so I don't cry from the tiredness and stress.

And yet here I am, gaining effing weight. It's the worst.

I have always had periods where I just hated how I looked and how I felt. It's not like I was ever skinny. I was never that girl in a bikini. I was always that girl with the kangaroo pouch (as Jackson calls it). This isn't a new feeling. But this time it feels especially awful. I had worked for years to get to a size 12 and here I am, wearing my maternity clothes because the though of putting on size 16 or higher again is more than I can handle. I feel like I'm starting all over. You'd think it would be empowering, after all- I know I can do it. I know it's possible. It's just having to do it all again. Knowing how many times I cried because everything on my body hurt.

Also knowing that no matter how much weight I lose, the flaps are still there. My kangaroo pouch is still there. It doesn't go away. Short of cosmetic surgery, I will always look three months pregnant.

So I have to do better. I'm back on my Couch to 5K running routine. I'm signed up for at least one 5K, and I'm signing up for the Minnesota Mile because it's an easy one mile run. I'm going to sign up for some other fall runs I like to do. I'll start my 30 Day Shred again for days I don't run.

In other words, I'm back at it.

I hate it.

I'm depressed and trying not to be.

And I curse genetics. Damn you, genetics.

Professional wogger.

Lambs, this fitness thing sucks. As it turns out, I'm not actually very good at it. I really am a fat kid at heart but I also don't want to shop at Lane Bryant and that pretty much, is the only reason I'm trying to get all fit. Well, that and I'd like to not have a heart attack. I'm too awesome to die young and all that.

But tonight I went for a quick two mile wog (walking/jogging combination) and I've said this before, but the downside to having a bubble butt via genetics is that it's really a barrier to wogging. Or any physical activity in general. I can always tell how well I'm doing in my exercise based on how quickly my rear end stops moving when I do. Today, it moved for awhile yet. I could have taken out a small child if one were behind me.

The more concerning problem from tonight's wog was perspiration. Well, at the time, I really thought I had actually peed my pants .3 miles in. Which, is pretty awful considering I didn't even feel it happen. So then all of these scenarios play through your head like, why didn't I feel myself peeing my own pants? What kind of medical malady would that be indicative of? I decided to ignore it, despite a rash obviously developing on my thigh, because I had black spandex like pants on and I figured nobody could see so let's stay on side streets and finish it out.

So I did.

As soon as I got home I went to investigate the situation.

As it turns out, I didn't pee myself! Which is super good to know. What I did do was sweat. It was clearly sweat. Normally, just my boobs sweat which is weird, but today? My thighs! I think that's good, right? Maybe that means my very own thunder from down under is slimming up a bit. That's kind of great.

My next mission is to get some shoes that don't make me want to say all of the swears a mile in, some socks that don't blister my feet, and a freaking arm band to put my phone in. Not to mention a serious sports bra that clasps in the front. I have found three really great ones for under $50 but they don't clasp in the front and to get it off after a workout you are essentially dislocating your shoulders. I can't keep asking Matt to come help me get free. Last week I got stuck, which is awful enough, but then he proceeded to come into the bathroom and laugh until he couldn't breathe because he said seeing me with a sports bra half on and half off and my arms all wonky, I looked like one of those seagulls stuck in a six pack ring holder you see in ads telling you not to litter.

Asshole.

Anyways. So that's my mission pretty soon. I have to get crackalackin, because I have quite a few 5K's coming up and I don't want to finish dead last again. It's kind of terrible to do that in case you aren't familiar. I mean, dead last means I still did more than people sitting on the couch, but when you get passed by old people, that's kind of awful.

Light it up. And wear a tutu for good measure.

Don't worry lambies, I'm still here. Things aren't totally in the shit hole over here. I've been trying to keep going with my normal everyday life, as fucked up as it sometimes can be, because it's all I've really got. So on Saturday I ran the Neon Run with my fellow dance mom and friend, Andrea.

And let me just say, we were the hottest Doodlebops there.

 The challenge was to be illuminated because obviously it's a Neon Run, at night, on the lake walk. I decided that I would wear the glow things they gave us AND I would spend $20 on a Fila shirt that was supposed to glow in the dark. I laid that bitch in the sunlight ALL DAY and it did not glow. Do I look like I have illuminated boobs? No. No I don't because Fila are a bunch of dirty liars.

I borrowed my sister in law's bright pink socks, wore my neon laced running shoes, borrowed a giant purple and blue tutu from Connie and then snagged a blue wig from Andrea. Which didn't work super well with my ponytail but who cares. The fact you can see my actual hair adds to the whole "I'm a mess who can't dress herself" theme.

 And then we walked it. We knew we weren't going to win any prizes for being the fastest, but who cares. We looked like weirdos and we got to chat the entire time which is really great and it was nice to do something that didn't let me sit at home and worry.

 We only saw one official homeless person, no muggers, and no abductions happened. Though towards the end that path was pretty dark so I was worried but it ended up being the turn around point. We kept getting compliments on our outfit so we decided to stick around for the prizes, which best costume was one of them. Know who beat us?

A couple of skinny bitches with leopard print leggings and lace neon leotards.

Next year? Oh next year it is ON.

Here is a shot that the owners of Canal Park Brewery took of Andrea and I with some other random people who did the 5K as well. You see how we stood out? Because we're awesome. I'm definitely doing it next year and I think next year we will have more notice so we'll have a bigger group of ladies. It was a ton of fun, though!

Oh yes, so I got home around 1am and then had to get up at 7 am to get ready for another 5K. Which turned out to be a terrible idea. Back to back 5K's when you aren't a good runner, have no stamina for a 5K, and have almost no sleep and are slightly dehydrated?

Poor choice.

I wanted to do it because it was literally a block from my house, it was the first annual, and it was a block party all raising money to feed the hungry in our town. I mean, even if I died- my $15 went to a good cause and as a bonus, maybe my organs could have been donated.

 Matt and the kids came down with me and they were going to wait for me to finish. Honestly, I had been averaging about 40 minutes for 3.1 miles and that was straight walking, so I thought for sure that's what I'd be coming in at.

 And I started strong. I think I ran for the first full mile and felt alright. But then I started going slower, I started cramping up, my knee hurt, then my hip started popping in and out and I had to walk. Then I thought, no big deal. I'll walk for a bit and then run a little bit- if I just do a combination, I'll be fine. But every time I ran it hurt and I felt like I wanted to cheat and turn around. Then I thought, maybe I'll just call Matt to come freaking get me because this sucks and holy crap, but 1.5 miles I was so tired. Like I had expended everything I had. By the time we hit that half way mark I was dead last and over it. Like, legit over it.

But then the guy at the turn around was so damn optimistic, so I figured screw it. I'm just walking this bitch. By mile 2 I really hated it and wanted to go home. Out of nowhere I got so overwhelmed about my mom, and my stress level in general, fed up with being chunky, and I was overly warm, so I started to cry. And there was turn around guy who clearly was waiting for me to hurry so he could pick up the barricades. But he kept telling me he'd follow me and that all I had to do was finish. Poor guy probably thought I was nuts.

By the time I turned and was on the last half mile I was just so mad at myself for sucking so bad and to be honest, I just wanted to shower and go to bed.

 Then my kids started running towards me on the sidewalk. And I thought dammit. I can't give up right in front of my kids. They don't care I'm chunky, or slow, or nonathletic, or dead freaking last. They are just happy to see me and that I'm actually in a race.

 So we finished together.

But most importantly? I finished. I was sweaty, sore, and tired. I was embarrassed to be last but more proud that I finished when I thought about giving it up. And this is the first, and probably only time, I'll ever repeat a Pinterest weightloss mantra because they are crap. Even though I was dead last, I did more than the fat asses who slept in that day.

Weight Loss Monday: Harvest Run 5K

I have been fairly slacker on the exercise but I made up for it by running in another 5K on Saturday, specifically the Harvest Run 5K that benefits the local NICU in one of the hospitals in Duluth. Super great cause and it was pretty much the prettiest 5K route to run. Hands down.

The race this year had all of us meet up at the Fitgers Brewery Complex in downtown Duluth (a must see stop if you're in the area) and we boarded a train that took us about 18 minutes away near the new Duluth East High School. Our families got to ride the train too, but obviously only runners and walkers got off.

 And it was a totally gorgeous and perfect fall day in Duluth. It was chilly (in the 50's) but thankfully there was no wind.

 Emily and I pre-race.

 And of course I dragged my kids and husband out of bed so they could come watch me. But they both were happy to ride the train.

 So once Emily and I got off of the train we had to walk to the start line. This race was much more organized than the race at the zoo and we felt super official. Mostly because we got our pin on numbers again but this time? We got fun chips to attach to our shoes to capture our time! Like legit racers.

Anyways. So I have to say I started out strong. I felt really good and despite forgetting my iPod (again) I was cruising along. Emily and I were keeping a good pace together and I wasn't feeling cramped or sore anywhere. Then we get to the one mile mark and it's a bit of a hill and a turn around so we decided to walk the corner and then take off again. Yeah. That's when the side cramp started. So we both walk it off and start up. I'm keeping a pretty steady walk/run pace until the two mile mark when BAM. My right knee completely pops out of it's socket and then almost immediately back in. At this point I figure we must be close to a water station so I decided to keep going. No. The two mile mark was at the Rose Garden and there were plenty of cowbells jingling but no water station. None. So I keep going thinking maybe there is another one just ahead.

I would be wrong yet again and my knee is really hurting. At this point I'm trying to think of my options but truly I have none other than to finish. I could have just walked it and finished but I was really pumped at the two mile mark when they shouted our times so far because I thought I had a decent chance of beating my first 5K time which was 47 minutes. I really felt like I was just going to do it.

So I started a light jog and when I say that I started crying at the .4 mark? I am not even kidding. I had one guy on the side ask if I was OK because I have tears coming down my face and I must have visibly looked like I was hurting and so when I reply "no", I get a "OK! Keep going!" Um, what the fuck? Are you kidding me? At that point I wanted to say screw it, but then I see Matt and my kids and of course my kids start freaking out because they see me. They both start clapping and screaming "Go, Mommy, Go" and so I came across that finish line.

 I had no idea what my time was but Emily was just ahead of me (there was a woman between us) and she was confident that we did better. I pretty much collapsed on a rock and just caught my breath because I was tired, I hurt, and I had to pee. And I was thirsty because hey- they had no water table at all during the race. So after I got my bearings about me I went and looked at the race postings on the wall and my time?

I beat my time by almost six full minutes with a bum knee. Pretty effing awesome and I will take that! But what's pretty cool is that I see that I am about a 13 minute mile and I was kind of happy to at least know that for future.

So that my friends? Concludes my second 5K. Obviously I wish I had gotten under 40 minutes because that was my goal, but I am happy I still beat my time. I am not happy that I obviously hurt myself. My knee is better than it was but my growing concern is my right hip. Which pretty much hurts a lot right now. So I am going to call and make an appointment to find out what the deal is since that is something I've dealt with for awhile and I don't think it's good. So.. happy thoughts there.

But my next 5K is (hopefully) the Gobble Gallop in Duluth on Thanksgiving or maybe even the Jingle Bell run which is the Saturday after that in Duluth too. We'll see. I'd like to do both, but it might only be one because I have to pay to run.. and funds are kind of tight right now. And? My knee and hip might dictate what I end up doing. So I'm going to take it easy this week which means no zumba, no running. I'll get back onto my schedule next week and hopefully not look like a Weeble when I walk.

Moo with me now.

Before I get on with my Monday Weightloss Checkin.. here's a few things before I forget:

1. YES! I did get a new blog design made just for me by my Canadian lover, Nikolett. She's cute as a damn button, she loves Muse, we both can't stand Kate Hudson and thinks she's ruining Matt Bellamy's life, and she thinks I'm slightly crazy but in a fun and lovable way. So everybody please thank her for listening to my crazy requests and taking the things I say (that sound like non sense) and turning into something awesome.

2. Yesterday I mentioned I got my birthday invitations done and I did. Go me. They go in the mail tomorrow. They didn't come out quite how I pictured in my head, but this was the best I could do with what I had since I can't really afford to buy new supplies for MY party. But... my 29th bday party is March 12, even though my bday is March 10. WOO!

 3. I got a set of cards done for my Etsy shop and they should be live.. sometime tonight. But I am kind of in love with the sparkly ribbon.

 **
WEIGH IN..
So this week as you'll see from my vlog, I didn't get a lot of fuckmill done. I only did it twice and that sucks. I know it. BUT to my credit, I did still do my stair stepper, my Shake weight thingie (which I don't think works), my arm weights, and my crunches. SO.. I feel like I made some progress.

I've given up milk because fuck that shit. I'm going to start on vitamins because visualizing me breastfeeding off of a cow is not worth the calcium. I may change my tune when I break a hip when I'm 40 but until then- vitamins it is.

This week's weight is...

OK. So clearly not as good as last week. Last week I lost almost five pounds and at the time I knew it was because I had hardly eaten due to The Plague, but still. I'll take even fake accomplishments that are only fleeting. I'm going to be ok with this weight because even though I didn't earn an actual loss by exercise, at least I didn't gain.

ESPECIALLY considering I ate like a fat fucking cow coming back from famine. Seriously. Our date day/night on Saturday was really shameful and I won't even tell you how hard my ass hit the ground after falling off the wagon. I mean, my ass made a dent, folks.

But this week my water intake has GOT to go up. Seriously. I realized I'm only drinking MAYBE one small bottle of water a day. Which, not good for all kinds of reasons. So I'm going to force myself to have water instead of my daily Coke from McDonald's. *sigh* It's going to be sad but I can do it.



Keep trucking along lambwhores. Tell me what kind of exercises you are doing, how long you are exercising, and what is preventing you from exercising every day or every other day?