Weight Loss Monday: The heat is killing me.

You guys, I'm not kidding when I tell you the heat might actually kill me. It's been so hot and I'm trying so hard to not complain because I absolutely hate winter with everything in me and it's coming but holy balls.

It's hot, y'all.

I had to switch it up for this week because not only was it hot but some evenings it was absolutely pouring and while I'm game to go walking in moderate rain with my little umbrella, when it's a severe weather alert I'm just not going to do it.

Instead I used my little bike thing at home and went three miles on that. To be honest though I don't know if it's a real three miles because it took me about a half hour and my legs only felt a little wobbly. Whatever- it was something.

Other days I did walk and it was OK. I've really been into podcasts lately and I've listened to this one three times now. It's so good. So  many great lines but one that has been sticking with me, "When you avoid conflict to make peace with other people, you start a war within." And I'll be honest, I had a hard time following Russell Brand because he speaks far beyond my intelligence level but Brene Brown is really good and I'm kind of obsessively watching and listening to everything I can find of hers online during my walks and that's been good.



So other than that, it's OK. I'm trying. I'm doing the best I can. I'm going out at least three times a week but my ultimate goal if five. I think eventually I'll need to make it a seven day a week thing but I'll get there.

How are you doing? Do you have podcasts you really, really enjoy? Share them with me because I'm almost through my list!

Weight Loss Monday: Hard realizations and truths.

I won't even lie, last week sucked. Last week sucked in a lot of ways and had some bright spots too, but for the most part..... it sucked.

Good news is that we had Lucy's speech appointment and she's going to keep getting speech services during the upcoming school year. That appointment was definitely the only highlight of the week for me.

The next day I had my psychiatry appointment, which I had been looking forward to, because it had been 12 weeks since my previous appointment so I felt like this might just be a check in. Maybe just a "increase the dose of Ritalin" appointment because the dose I was on (which was variable, I had a range that I could stay within, depending on my level of exhaustion for the day- so take more if I'm WAY tired and take less if I'm only a little tired).

Instead he explained that you can't just "take more" and it'll work better. I was at the top of the allowed dosage so if it wasn't working, and I felt no change in my level of tired, and I didn't feel any more alert and I didn't have any more energy to do stuff then the next logical step would be to change my medication.

And I knew this. I knew this, and I knew that it might come to this. The next stop on this track is Adderall. Now, do NOT misunderstand me- I understand the need for medication in the treatment of mental illness. I get it, I know it, I'm OK with it. I'm no longer in the "I don't need or want medications" camp because I'm not an idiot, I know that I need these. I am far beyond what nature, exercise, essential oils, chiropractors, yoga, CBD oil, etc can do. I have actual brain damage and I understand that now. I'm OK with it.

But Adderall always scared me. It's always been on the list of medications on my ladder. I have exhausted all of the other options that are in my "OK" list on my GeneSight test. I have done everything right and gone through the side effects and withstood the really horrible days where I wondered why I'm even doing this. But Adderall feels like a failure. Like I'm admitting defeat and I don't know why. I don't know why this one bothers me so much.

Matt picked it up on Thursday and I haven't taken it yet. I will. Probably not this week, if we're being honest.

On Thursday I had to do labs for endocrinology to see what's what. Most of my levels were pretty OK and that's good and normal. A couple of them were a little high.... indicating that I am close to the diabetes fan club and that is NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. I will stave myself if I have to but being diabetic is not going to happen. Also, I have too much chloride and something else which indicates I'm not getting enough oxygen. Common causes are sleep apnea (have that, but I also have a CPAP machine) and obesity. Which.... guilty. He reiterated that I have to lose weight. It will help the diabetes thing and now the breathing thing.

So that's fun, being told that great, you're walking and that's awesome but also DO MORE RIGHT NOW AND TRY HARDER. So I continue walking. The heat is killing me and I am really struggling with fitness in the heat. I'm going to have to increase myself to two miles because obviously one mile isn't doing the job even though I feel like a sweaty mess after it. I'm going to have to try doing home work outs too. Maybe I can do something in the morning and walk after dinner. I don't know. I'm stressed out and over it all.

Walking Queen... young and sweet... only 37....

So... that didn't flow as well as the original but close enough. I don't know where you live but where I live (the very tip of Lake Superior) it was hot as balls all week. But you know what I did? 

 I walked like 5 times. I didn't take pictures every time because I forgot but! I took a picture of me on Monday holding my umbrella because it was sprinkling and looked like it  might downpour but I brought an umbrella because I am only kind of a wussy. I didn't end up needing it because it was still like 82 and I was so warm so the rain actually felt pretty alright. Tuesday was an OK day to walk. Wednesday it was even warmer so as soon as I got home I had to shower because not only was I sweaty and gross, but I couldn't cool down fast enough. Which, I'm finding I'm having a harder and harder time doing so that's inconvenient. Thursday I walked in the morning and promptly came home and ate two Bomb Pops for breakfast because I am a champion. Friday I ended up skipping my neighborhood walk and instead walked around Walmart for an hour with Olivia trying to find a birthday gift for her friend. I put in easily more than a mile and left there irritated to boot because she is the worst shopper. Never has any ideas, never knows what people like, it's just the worst. Saturday I walked around Glensheen Mansion and I was actually pretty tired when I was done so I think in all I did maybe a mile and a half? 

Sunday was rest day because I'm not a masochist. 

This week is going to be kind of stressful and a lot busy. 

Monday I have therapy (THANK GOD) and Lucy has speech where we go over her latest assessment. Tuesday we meet with the school district for an IEP/see-if-you're-bad-enough-to-qualify-for-services meeting. It's pretty bad that I hope Lucy scores low enough to be able to receive services as school. So... cross your fingers. Wednesday I see my psychiatrist to talk about my medications and I like that doctor so that will be fun. Lucy has speech again on Friday and then on Sunday we go to the parenting hell hole also known as Day Out with Thomas the Train! 

Matt is super thrilled. He remembers when we took Olivia and Jackson way back in 2011. 

I actually had to find it in a scrapbook because I didn't remember it and apparently it was hot, it was loud, people were rude, and we got suckered into buying two hats that cost me almost $60. 

So. Should be a good weekend. Ha!

Also, if you're on Instagram, you should come and enter my giveaway. It ends August 1 and I'm probably going to mention it every day until then to be annoying. 

Enter the super cute giveaway HERE!! 

Are you walking? Running? Squats? Eating ice cream on the couch for two meals a day? 

Weight Loss Monday: Walking with maybe predators. And the sun is trying to kill me.

I feel like I'm finally getting my groove back. Matt said I used to be super crabby if I didn't get my nightly walk in every night years ago when I was in my weight loss kick. I'm starting to get that feeling now but I am also really very tired so it's been a struggle to go.

Last week though I walked Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. The goal this week is to go every day. I'm not kidding. I am finding that walking in the morning pushing a stroller is really tough and it makes one mile feel like I'm walking to my death. In the evening, after dinner, I've been walking a mile and getting the itch that I could go further so I'm going to try. Two miles with the stroller is an absolute no-go because Penelope and Lucy are heavy. It's almost pushing 60-70 pounds and I know that's nothing to most people but for me? It's something.

I also discovered after really looking back at my notes and putting information together on my OWN that I think I have heat intolerance. Which, I know it sounds like I'm one of those crazy people using Dr. Google and diagnosing themselves but that's not the case at all. The last three summers have been kind of awful and full of days where I'm sick (vomiting, diarrhea, migraines, fatigue, and flu like symptoms) but they are sporadic and I didn't think there was any kind of pattern.

Oh but there is!

They always happen the day AFTER I've been outside for awhile on a moderately warm day. Just this summer alone I've had a few of these events (and they are the worst, no joke) and they have all started while I'm outside. I'll start with a headache, then I have to run to the bathroom, then I feel like I'm going to throw up everything I've ever eaten in my life, then I get unbelievable fatigue (it feels like I'm going to pass out because I am that tired) and I start to hurt all over. It'll last for an entire day, sometimes two. Nothing helps other than a ton of ice water and sleep.

I sent a message to my rheumatologist and my endocrinologist and I got varying information. Rheumatology didn't seem to care even when I point blank asked if it's possible I have lupus. I guess I'll have to bring it up at my next appointment again and see. Endocrinology was a little more forthcoming with information and while he didn't seem concerned or surprised, he did let me know that where I have brain damage and pituitary damage is where your body regulates your body temperature. So when you get warm your body tries to regulate it, same as when you get cold. Apparently I cannot do that so I'm at a significantly greater risk for heat stroke, so that's really fun. The only solution he has for me is to wear a hat, always be under shade, where loose fitting, breathable clothing, drink obscene amounts of water, and do whatever I can to not be hot.

I also realized on July 3 when I was sitting, in the shade, in the yard watching kids play and chatting with Olivia and her friend, I had drank 150 ounces of water that morning between 7-11 a.m.

And I didn't pee. Not once. Didn't even feel like I had to.

In fact, I drank more and more water all day.

I peed before I went to bed for the first time that day at 10 pm.

So clearly, something isn't normal.

**
Next up is my walks. I do the same loop every walk because it's easy to know when to turn around and it's easy for me to find my way home in case I get confused or disoriented.

On Saturday though, as I was almost to my turn around spot, a man was walking toward me and I didn't think anything about it. As he walked past me I just..... I got that feeling. You know when your gut is telling you something isn't right? You get that urge to run and look for help? That's what I got.

I turned at my normal spot and he kept walking the direction I had just come from. As I got around the block I just have an uncomfortable feeling and I actually feel unsafe. Something about this doesn't feel right and I'm not sure what to do. So I keep walking. I realize he's matching my pace but we're walking on parallel street. I slow WAY down mid block to let him get ahead of me. After was more than enough time for him to get ahead, I start going only to realize he stopped and was waiting for me.

I actually felt like I was being stalked. I'm not kidding.

I realize I'm maybe three blocks from my house now so I decided I'm going to risk injury and start jogging to get ahead of him. I'm clipping along at a decent pace and I just... I have a really uneasy feeling. By the time I got to my house (I live on a corner) I realize I have screwed up because now this guy knows where I live. He must have heard or seen Matt, who was working in the garage but had his saw pulled out into the drive, because he basically started booking it. I tell Matt what happened and he doesn't seem concerned, but I didn't see the guy again.

Not going to lie, I didn't walk yesterday because I'm mildly afraid I'm going to run into this guy again.

But it made me wonder, has a man ever felt that way? Like he's being stalked and followed, and been scared about it? I can imagine it isn't as frequently as women have. My entire walk home I kept running scenarios in my head, like what are my options? I can maybe run through some yards, maybe start banging on doors. I had my phone and I could have called for help but what if he grabs me and I drop my phone? How would they know where I was dragged off to? If I started screaming would anyone be home and willing to come out and help me?

My priority this week is to seriously get pepper spray or something to take with me. Even if I never need it, maybe just having an option would make me feel better. I don't know.

Weight Loss Monday: Working Out With Strangers

I think I maybe mentioned last week that I found this "Weight Loss Exercise Class" put on by the hospital system I go to. I saw it online and then one of my doctors mentioned it so I figured for $5, I could give it a try. They meet Mondays and Thursdays from 5:30-6:30 and that seems do-able.

So I went.

The best is that I did not read that information well because I got there at about 5 and I felt like I was completely trespassing. The place was quiet and virtually empty. It said to meet in the lobby and thankfully I knew where I was going because I did physical and occupational therapy here, but I'm also here every 4-6 weeks for labs so at least I didn't run the risk of getting lost.

That's kind of great.

At 5:30 the very nice physical therapist assistant came and introduced herself, and then one other person came to the class, which was great because at least I wasn't alone. We introduced ourselves and the instructor wanted to know a little of our health background, basically to see what we can and can't do.

Long story short, we got to do easy stuff because I'm a mess and the other person had a boot on their foot because they recently had surgery. Not today, aerobics.

Oddly, while I did feel like I worked hard (I was fairly exhausted afterwards and went to bed at 9 and Matt said I was asleep within seconds. For real.), I also kind of wanted to do a little more. Which is GREAT, I suppose, but also a sign that I could easily over do it and really hurt myself and that would suck.

I think I'm going to keep at it because it's a way to get out of the house plus I'm doing something good for my body. Truthfully, I didn't go on Thursday because I was sick but I do plan on going this week.

Other than that, I keep walking. I have been taking the little girls with me in the stroller so that's an added workout because they are like 50 pounds in that stroller. But they enjoy it and look for animals. Lucy is always VERY excited about the bunny statue in someone's yard and hasn't figured out it's not a real bunny. I do need to find a route that has more shade, though. Half of my route is fairly shady but I'd like to find more shade if possible because I think I actually have a sun and/or heat intolerance. All of my illness in the summer? Pretty sure it's heat or sun related because I seem to get sick shortly after being exposed to either so that's a fun development.

Weight Loss Monday: Routine!

I have really struggled with knowing that once I get a routine, it'll get easier. I know this, I completely know this, but it's so hard. The good thing is that I feel like I'm getting into one, I just also really want to be lazy and sleep.

So far, most mornings (like 3-4 a week) I take the little girls on a walk and push the double stroller and we go for about a mile. If you remember my last update (two weeks ago), I mentioned that I was going to try two miles, and I did that twice.

It was pretty horrible.

So I'm back to going one mile and when I feel a little more confident and less like death at the end, I'm going to add more in.

I do think this week I'm going to start adding in work outs from BeachBody because I'm learning through copious research that I need to do more if I want to feel like I don't look pregnant. I'm really struggling with knowing that I look pregnant, I have a huge stomach, and while psychologically I know this isn't my fault, this is completely because I'm on corticosteroids to live, but I really hate it. It reminds me of the trauma I've been through and it just really makes me angry. If I was just fat I'd feel like I would eat better and exercise more and problem solved.

And I'm not saying there is anything wrong with being this size and looking this way. There isn't. I feel like it is a visual representation of everything I struggle with mentally. Does that make sense?

Anyways. 

I saw a thing last week saying we should have 120 minutes of outdoor time a week for optimal health. Combine that with talking to this couple who just finished walking the Superior Hiking Trail and I have this weird goal... to hike the SHT.

Now don't panic, I know, I absolutely KNOW this sounds insane. Can I track 300+ miles on my own? All in one shot?

No.

God, no. I might be super depressed but I'm not delusional.

I'm going to really look into the logistics of this and I just... I just feel like I could do this. So I don't know. Don't even listen to me, I'm clearly nuts.

Weight Loss Monday: Thump, Thump

You guys! I bet you thought I fell off the wagon, didn't you? Well you'd only be partially right. It's getting nice out here (some days) so I've kind of moved myself to walking outside. Honestly, I need the vitamin D and I like getting the hell out of my house because I love my family but they drive me C-R-A-Z-Y.

So instead of exercising in the house I've been walking. Most days I walk with Penelope and Lucy in the double stroller, which adds a decent amount of weight that I'm pushing, but then other days I have to get the hell out on my own so I wait until after dinner and go all alone. I listen to a podcast and go. So far, I've only been able to go for one mile but I think this might be my week to get up to two miles.

The really nice thing is that my rheumatoid arthritis seems to not be in a big flare like usual so I'm taking advantage of that and trying to push myself a little more. I'm still so exhausted though so I'm not sure what that's all about.

I am finding that I am sliding into a depressive funk again, and I don't know if that is the stress around me and not coping well or something biochemically in me flaring up like anything else would. Maybe both. I don't know. I do know it's frustrating and I'm really struggling with it.

But that's the plan this week, just keep walking. My diet is pretty on point though so at least I'm doing something consistently right.

Do you find you prefer to exercise outdoors? I'm wouldn't even consider myself an outdoorsy person but I am enjoying being able to be outside in my yard even if just for a few minutes every day.

Flappy core, motivational whipping, probably going to die

This has been a fairly insane week. I committed to a lot of things this week because I'm at the point now where I'm getting really angry about not being at the level that I used to be. Realistically, I can't be at that level. But I'm angry. So I sign up for a lot of things, can't do them, then I'm angry at myself because I can't do it and let people down. Cue shame and guilt and that my friends... is what's keeping me around. My therapist will flat out tell you she doesn't work with me on any of that because if that's what keeps me here then it needs to stay.

Sigh. 

I started the week off with therapy. I feel like that's a really good way to start the week, to be honest. I make a lot of my therapy appointments on Monday. But this was in the evening so I have a friend who got Olivia to dance and I was able to pick her up. (But also cry in my car for a solid hour after without her seeing, so that's a bonus win.) Therapy was tough and I can't imagine not having that safe space to get out everything I hold in during the week. 

Also this week I made a goal of wanting to work out in some capacity three times a week. I know, I know, I KNOW I have made this goal a lot this year but I am sticking to it. I just can't handle this weight anymore and I'm getting so frustrated. Clearly moderating my diet is doing nothing because I'm down to a structured 1200 calories a day for the last six months and I've gained ten pounds over that time. Like... what the hell?? 

So in my quest of finding something low impact to get my started I settled on a pre and post natal workout program on Beachbody on Demand. I figure if pregnant and just given birth women can do it, I can do it. 

 Lucy tried participating as well. That was her version of a modified plank. She mostly just whipped me with resistance bands and that actually started to hurt once she got the hang of it. 

I did that on Tuesday and to be honest, I felt like it was more of a stretching workout and that this maybe wasn't going to have much impact at all. Like maybe it was TOO low impact. 

Wednesday I couldn't get down the stairs and had to scoot. I couldn't sit on the toilet, let alone get off of it. (Obviously, I did not take a Linzess pill.) I was so surprised at how badly my legs and my arms/shoulders hurt. 

Yesterday my legs hurt so bad that I had a hard time walking as much as I did. My workout yesterday consisted of hauling Lucy in/out of her car seat a LOT and walking her in and out of buildings. Which I know sounds stupid, but we walked about a mile and a half in all. I was EXHAUSTED by the time I got home with Penelope and Lucy. 

 I have to just share this photo. This was on Tuesday and for a good portion of my workout she sat in the chair, patiently waiting for her lunch time movie. She was pretty good about it after she stopped whipping me. 

But all of this freaks me out because tomorrow? Tomorrow I do the first 5K I've done in oh.... three years? I'm doing the Fitger's Harvest Run with my friend Amy and we're both going to walk the 3.1 miles. The kicker is that I did not finish my "training" so technically I have not actually walked three miles in about three years. So yeah... I am confident I will make it across the finish line but I am not confident I'll be able to move on Sunday. 

Stay tuned. 

Super great share from this week came from my friend Jennie. Her sister was having her baby at the same hospital I've had all of my kids but when you first come in on the window sill is the plaque I gave them in recognition of saving my life. It has the picture of when I first met Lucy (while awake) and basically saying this hospital is equipped and capable of saving you should this happen to you. It was really pretty but it's kind of nice to see it again. I've actually had people say (after hearing my story) that they saw something at the hospital and I say, that was me! So maybe not everyone knows what an AFE is, but they see this and maybe decide to Google it. The more people know about it, the more we can save. 

So that was my week. Wish me luck for tomorrow. I'll take pictures and report back on Monday!

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?

Workout Wednesday: working through anger

I'm on this kick to do better this year and hopefully get fit, or at lease less obese, and it's hard. I feel like I have a lot of obstacles to get around and I get easily frustrated because I know what I used to be able to do and frankly? I'm pissed off and angry that I am here. Again. I'm so sick of being reminded how much I have changed since my AFE. It's tiring. 

I also have to be honest and tell you that while I did work out this week, I only did it when I was angry. And not just angry at my situation, but angry at my children. My husband. My life. The sounds of their laughter get on my nerves and I want to throw something. My husband telling me about his hard day at works makes me want to punch a wall. Then someone starts crying and I feel like I'm going to hurt someone. 

It scares the absolute hell out of me. 

So I'm trying to separate myself from the situation as much as I can and I have been going to my basement to walk on my treadmill. On this particular day, it was really bad. It was a level 11 of anger and it took me a solid 20 minutes to calm down enough to feel like I could rejoin everyone else upstairs. I missed dinner. I missed hearing about their days. I missed the time of day we all sit as a family and talk about what is happening. My chair sat empty as an obvious reminder that I am not the same mom I was. I am not a great mom right now. I'm trying but I feel like I'm failing in all areas. 

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. 

It smells like perpetual dog shit, it must be spring.

I don't think I have ever, in all of the years I have lived in northern Wisconsin, been as excited for spring and summer as I am this year. It's obviously a combination of the months of freezing awful cold, and feet upon feet of snow, or just the never ending process of it all. I'm over it. Everybody around here is. I think even winter enthusiasts are like, enough is enough.

Luckily for us, it's been pretty amazing this week as far as weather. Snow is melting, and you can kind of see grass in some areas. It's all muddy and brown, but at least you know it's there and it'll come back and be green someday soon. Now that it's reasonable to be outside and I don't have to wear a ton of layers of clothing or a face mask, I've decided that I am going to start up my nightly walking routine again. I'm easing myself into running again and it feels kind of amazing. I'm already at the point where I'm craving my outdoor time and fresh air.

Tonight I managed to get Matt to come out walking with me, and as soon as I got outside all I could smell was dog shit. Like everywhere we went, dog shit. Somehow I forget that every year, spring smells like dog shit around here. It's awful.

But anyways. As it turns out, Matt is a terrible walking partner. Granted, we did have Twinky with us and he has to try to kill everything and the rain gutters were really upsetting him, but Matt is a slow walker. Like, a twenty minute mile walker. If we were in a mall, we would have been trampled by the same couple four times in one lap. It was nice to have him come with me so I didn't have to worry about being abducted. As I get older I feel less safe when I'm by myself outside. I've never been super great about that anyways but put me outside as it's getting dark and you will see the beginnings of a panic attack.

So what else? Here's a recap of crap happening soon:

1. The biggest couch of all time will be here on Friday. Oh? Did I not tell you about this? Well I will on Friday. Because of course there is a hilarious story on how my husband spent $3100 in five minutes on a couch. Oh, and an ottoman. I can't leave out the fucking ottoman.

2. My academic advising meeting? Friday. EEK. I'm kind of nervous. We are going to map out my next few semesters of school and then I register for fall classes on Monday.

3. Still on the fence about summer classes.

4. Summer house projects? Mapping them out.

5. My basement? Is a MESS. A family room is going up and I have progress pictures. We're quickly discovering that the previous owners owned no power tools and hand nailed everything in and also did not own a level. Absolutely nothing around here is level. Not even close. *sigh*

Lots of stuff coming up. I'm just so happy about the warmer weather and being outside. My brain isn't used to this much fresh air and stimulation.

Shaky legs, urine, and meth addicted zombies.

You all need to be proud of me, bitches. NOT ONLY did I make tonight's dinner when I would normally give up when A) I'm missing ingredients and B) fail to realize that it needs to simmer for 1 1/2 hours and I'm starting to cook at 4:30. It just seems so daunting and usually I'm all, "fuck this, get me some pizza" and that solves that.

BUT NO.

I made dinner while simultaneously making tomorrow's dinner which required me to like mix shit and brown some steak in a skillet and then get it all together in a crockpot so it can marinate over night. BAM, bitches. BAM.

Even Matt was all impressed and optimistic I could maybe kick my french fries at 9pm habit. Seeing how it is only 7:40, I'm hungry and I just finished day one of 30 Day Shred? That is yet to be determined. I see him getting all presumptuous and getting his pajamas on. Silly, silly husband.

Which brings me to urine. While doing the 30 Day Shred I remembered that Jillian is a fan of jumping jacks and jumping rope and literally kicking your own ass, which means the whole "my bladder isn't what it once was" comes back as I pee myself.

Yeah, I peed my own pants in my own living room while doing jumping jacks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I keep doing my fucking Kegels and Matt tells me things are as good, if not better, than they were pre-babies so I know I'm doing those often enough. Like twice every day for the last five years yet I cannot get through 20 jumping jacks without peeing my pants. The doctor basically said before that there isn't anything I can do short of a bladder sling or pelvic mesh which not happening because you always see those lawsuit commercials warning about collapsed bladders and snapped slings. No fucking thank you.

But I need to figure out what the eff to do about this. It's kind of disgusting. I'm just saying.

Oh but guess what I saw today? My first ever legit meth addicted zombie. From the sunken cheekbones, scabs and sores literally covering this person, patchy hair, yellowed and missing teeth and the slumped walk? I wanted to take a picture but that's how they get you- they distract you with your camera phone and then eat your brains.

I saw it on the internet. And the internet does not lie.

The Bike Incident

If you don't know about Another David, you need to go to his blog right now. He's so much smarter than I likely ever will be plus he rides bicycles and goes for insane 20 mile rides. How he doesn't permanently have a bike seat glued to his ass- I don't know. But he's fab and I love him to bits. AND if we ever meet up he's promised me an evening filled with midgets and debauchery.

Who doesn't need a friend like that?

Anyways. So I remember commenting on his blog somewhere about what I refer to as "The Bike Incident" which is what makes me leery to own a bike even though I know I would, for the most part, like it.

The story begins when I was around 12. This is me at like age 10. Apparently I wasn't cute enough to get pictures taken of me at age 12 or something. But you'll see I was still a hot bitch rocking my black spandex cropped leggins with the lace trim, the matching black/white shirt WITH a hot pink sweatshirt. While hiking in Jay Cooke State Park. In sandals.

Yo betta recognize.

Anyways. So most kids get bikes for Christmas and that's fine because they can actually ride their bikes on Christmas. For us it's kind of a great gift but torture because you know it's another 6 months before you can go out and really have fun with it. Bikes aren't super conducive to snow. Well when I was 10, my brother was 10, our parents got us mountain bikes. Not real ones, but we thought they were. All I knew was mine was white with pink and green paint splotches with black accents. It was the fucking hotness. It had gears and 10 speeds and hand brakes and yeah. It was the most bad ass bike I had ever had.

Fast forward to the spring and my dad decided he was going to teach us how to properly ride a bike. Now, I had bikes in the past and knew how to ride it. I mean, I wasn't a toddler here. But I apparently didn't know enough to not break this bike and my dad didn't want to see $100 go down the toilet. He was adamant about bike care and how we should use the kick stand and not just throw it on the ground, etc. He wanted us to take pride in our new vehicles.

So one afternoon dad comes home with this jalopy of bike he got from god knows where and he was going to take us out to what we called "The Gully" by our house. The Gully was basically an old logging road for trucks, unpaved but well worn and wide that would take you straight to the St. Louis River which is what the paper mill sits on. We had played back there and we knew that there were other trails we just didn't know we were allowed to go that far into the woods. Well, that wasn't mostly me because I was the chicken shit when I was younger and Travis probably was back there all the time lighting fires and such.

Anyways- so we get on our bikes and I figure I'm good to go. We are riding along this trail which was kind of high up. To our right was a bunch of woods and to the left was a drop off with train tracks at the bottom. We went as far as we could on our trail before realizing we had to turn around or ride down this drop off hill and ride along the train tracks.

At that moment, Travis screwed up his brakes. My dad stopped to help him and looked at me, told me to "take 'er easy" down the hill. I'm SURE he said "down the hill" which to me, means ride your bike down the hill. I see a path that is worn into the hill which obviously means it's safe because bikes have been down it. So I start out on this little path.

Approximately 2 seconds into said ride down the little path I hear my dad yell my name, and then I see it. A barrel. Half sticking out of the ground that you couldn't see from the top. Obviously, I panic and hit the barrel.

I then go airborne, do two complete somersaults in the air, at which point I separated from my bike, hit the ground, roll down the hill, land on the railroad tracks. It felt like 10 minutes that I laid there when it really only could have been a second when my bike came down. And landed on top of me.

I pretty much started crying and thought I was going to die. But here comes my brother and Dad, taking their leisurely fucking time around the path, not the way I went, and asked me if I was ok. I remember my dad telling me to get up because I had to ride the bike home and him asking me several times if the bike was ok.

Nice.

At some point I was hobbling along and it felt like I had blood running down my leg. My dad told me that I had to take my pants off to see if I had gotten hurt. So there I am, age 12, half naked next to some railroad tracks, crying, and the biggest bruise I have ever seen developing in my left inner thigh. This thing was the size of a dinner plate and was the inner thigh and part of the front and back. Black as night. And puffy. It was getting more and more puffy and it hurt like a som'of'a'bitch.

I had to walk home like that because riding the bike was not going to happen. My mom laughed. Travis teased me. My dad said I needed more lessons.

I rode my bike again, on flat roads only, for a few more years. And every once in awhile, I see them go on sale and I think I'd like to buy one and take the kids out. But then I think oy...I don't want to be that loser parent that rides bikes with their kids. Those kids always got beat up.