Today is going to be a LONG day.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Cereal is of The Devil
Ugh. I let the boys talk me into Chocolate Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal yesterday when we were at the grocery store. They are so supportive and don't complain about the changes I made to our meals that I figured why not. After all, the ice cream didn't bother me. Cause you know, I've got my apple slices and peanut butter with just a dash of cinnamon on top. Tomato, tomahta. Right? Nope. I fixed them cereal this morning and OMG my breakfast looks disgusting in comparison. I made myself a delicious omelet with tomatoes, peppers, cheese, and turkey. It looked good in my head and in truth, it is delicious. But, not compared to this cereal. I want to lay on top of the table and just pour cereal and milk down my throat. It smells so good. Come on! CHOCOLATE CINNAMON TOAST CRUNCH?! I dreamed of that combination when I was kid. Hell, my mom used to get mad at me because I'd pour chocolate sauce over my cereal when I was the boys age and sit happily in front of the TV with a big ass bowl of it. I want to appease myself with just a tinny little bowl of cereal, but I know I'm lying to myself. One little bowl will turn into just a little more. Come on, Makita, just one more bowl. You're good. You're sweating it out. You're doing the damn thing. Come on girl, don't deprive yourself...Fuck all that. I already know how this is going to end. I'm going to have one bowl and the next thing I know I'm going to be in a damn diabetic coma. Okay, maybe not exactly like that. But I have a serious problem when it comes to chocolate. My problem is there is chocolate in the house and the problem won't be solved until it has all be devoured. Why the hell did I buy this damn cereal?! Oh, that's right. I want to let my kids have random memories growing up like I did of sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons eating a big ass bowl of crack cereal.
Today is going to be a LONG day.
Today is going to be a LONG day.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Hello, hello...Anybody Home?
It's been a hot minute since I've blogged anything. Like for real, damn near 2 years. For awhile, I was using my site as a place to blog, but damn hackers got into it and I've since forgotten the password. Ah well, at least I still have blogger! So I decided today to pick my blog back up after realizing that some of my post on FB should be blog posts. Like my whole getting my sexy figure back. Okay, stop. I'm already lying. My figure is hella damn sexy. Nice hips and a thick booty? HELLO! Seriously, I'm trying to get back on track in a healthy manner.
I was recently diagnosed with pre-diabetes and a severe vitamin D deficiency. The pre-diabetes I wasn't surprised to hear because goodness knows my love triangle with Otis Spunkmeyer and Ben & Jerry (wait, I think this would be a love quadruple?) has been full in effect for the last year. I know, you're thinking: Makita, what happened? You were so on point the last time we spoke. Well, where do I begin...oh, I know I'll just make it short. I stopped giving a damn. Last year, I started off right. I was making healthy choices, hired a personal trainer, got rid of a lot of stress in my life. I was doing the damn thing. But then Spring came and my body started rebelling on me. I kept coming down with pleurisy (it's a very nasty inflammation of the lungs and chest) that was putting me out for weeks at a time. So I tried to combat it by letting my personal trainer sign me up for a month of fitness boot camp. All was going well with that, even hired a new personal trainer. But a week or so into August, my right arm started going numb on me. Yep. Freaked me the fuck out! After several doctor visits, I finally found out I needed to have surgery on my spine at the C5/C6 level known as Anterior Cervical Dischotomy Fusion surgery aka ACDF. So that happened in September. As you can imagine, my old demons with depression came to the forefront. I spent a lot of time depressed and scared I was going to die.
Think about it, someone tells you they need to cut into your neck and remove a cracked disc and replace it with a cadaver bone and tell me you wouldn't be scared. I dare you. It's some scary shit. Even though all of my friends rallied around me, I was still scared shitless and each time I woke up in the middle of the night because of pain or not being able to feel my arms, I cried until exhaustion took me. Anyway, the surgery was a success. I'm currently 4 months post-op (well, tomorrow I'll be officially 4 months post-op). My surgeon and physical therapist believe I am healing up quite nicely. So anyway, to make myself feel alive, I decided I wanted to learn Latin dances this year.
I don't know any dances out there that will make you feel more alive than Latin dances. I am currently learning Salsa and Bachata. It's been about a month for each and I couldn't love it more. (More posts about Salsa and Bachata another day) I'm so thankful to be active again. After a year of not being able to exercise the way I wanted to, I simply gave up. I went back to my not give a damn eating ways and added to my not being able to exercise after the surgery I really stopped caring. So fast forward to today and that explains the pre-diabetes (along with diabetes running in my family).
Now the vitamin D deficiency did throw me for a loop. Like damn, how am I a 2. Yes, a TWO!!!! The number that comes after one, but before three. Normal levels are above 30, anything between 20-29 are considered low. I'm so damn low, I'm vampiric. Though once I sat and thought about it, it made sense. Since I wasn't outside exercising anymore I wasn't getting enough sunlight. I work a 8 to 5 shift inside, Salsa and Bachata dance inside, read inside, eat inside, talk inside...you get the picture.
So what am I doing about it? Well, I was already in workout mode when I was diagnosed. I've been doing dance for about a month and if you think that's not a workout, think again. Salsa can burn at minimum (if done right and continuously) 450 calories/hour. Bachata another 450. On average, I'm taking 6 dance classes a week with 1 private lesson. That's 7 hours a week. That's just Salsa and Bachata and it doesn't include the Social Swing classes I like to take sometimes. So that's great that I'm getting more exercise INSIDE, but that's not helping the whole "you need sunlight Makita"issue. So I've added in 3 mile walks on non dance days and 2 mile walks on dance days OUTSIDE. IN THE SUNLIGHT. In addition, my doctor has me on medications to help with both issues. But overall, I think I'm making good progress. I also do 3 days of strength training to help with the recovery of my shoulder/arm/neck.
Most importantly, I'm helping the exercise by eating healthier. I'm currently doing a low carb/high protein diet that is diabetic based. I'm living like I have diabetes now so that I don't have to live with diabetes later. Is this a temporary thing? Nope. Why give myself health issues I have the power to control? I don't want diabetes. Yes, I admit I want a fat ass and smaller boobs. Two demons I have been battling since the dawn of my sexiness. Alas, I can survive those. After all, I gotta work what my Mama gave me. But diabetes? No. That is NOT the "D"I be talking about. Ha!
Anyway, that's me in a nutshell starting off 2014. I'd love it if you joined me on my journey.
I was recently diagnosed with pre-diabetes and a severe vitamin D deficiency. The pre-diabetes I wasn't surprised to hear because goodness knows my love triangle with Otis Spunkmeyer and Ben & Jerry (wait, I think this would be a love quadruple?) has been full in effect for the last year. I know, you're thinking: Makita, what happened? You were so on point the last time we spoke. Well, where do I begin...oh, I know I'll just make it short. I stopped giving a damn. Last year, I started off right. I was making healthy choices, hired a personal trainer, got rid of a lot of stress in my life. I was doing the damn thing. But then Spring came and my body started rebelling on me. I kept coming down with pleurisy (it's a very nasty inflammation of the lungs and chest) that was putting me out for weeks at a time. So I tried to combat it by letting my personal trainer sign me up for a month of fitness boot camp. All was going well with that, even hired a new personal trainer. But a week or so into August, my right arm started going numb on me. Yep. Freaked me the fuck out! After several doctor visits, I finally found out I needed to have surgery on my spine at the C5/C6 level known as Anterior Cervical Dischotomy Fusion surgery aka ACDF. So that happened in September. As you can imagine, my old demons with depression came to the forefront. I spent a lot of time depressed and scared I was going to die.
Think about it, someone tells you they need to cut into your neck and remove a cracked disc and replace it with a cadaver bone and tell me you wouldn't be scared. I dare you. It's some scary shit. Even though all of my friends rallied around me, I was still scared shitless and each time I woke up in the middle of the night because of pain or not being able to feel my arms, I cried until exhaustion took me. Anyway, the surgery was a success. I'm currently 4 months post-op (well, tomorrow I'll be officially 4 months post-op). My surgeon and physical therapist believe I am healing up quite nicely. So anyway, to make myself feel alive, I decided I wanted to learn Latin dances this year.
I don't know any dances out there that will make you feel more alive than Latin dances. I am currently learning Salsa and Bachata. It's been about a month for each and I couldn't love it more. (More posts about Salsa and Bachata another day) I'm so thankful to be active again. After a year of not being able to exercise the way I wanted to, I simply gave up. I went back to my not give a damn eating ways and added to my not being able to exercise after the surgery I really stopped caring. So fast forward to today and that explains the pre-diabetes (along with diabetes running in my family).
Now the vitamin D deficiency did throw me for a loop. Like damn, how am I a 2. Yes, a TWO!!!! The number that comes after one, but before three. Normal levels are above 30, anything between 20-29 are considered low. I'm so damn low, I'm vampiric. Though once I sat and thought about it, it made sense. Since I wasn't outside exercising anymore I wasn't getting enough sunlight. I work a 8 to 5 shift inside, Salsa and Bachata dance inside, read inside, eat inside, talk inside...you get the picture.
So what am I doing about it? Well, I was already in workout mode when I was diagnosed. I've been doing dance for about a month and if you think that's not a workout, think again. Salsa can burn at minimum (if done right and continuously) 450 calories/hour. Bachata another 450. On average, I'm taking 6 dance classes a week with 1 private lesson. That's 7 hours a week. That's just Salsa and Bachata and it doesn't include the Social Swing classes I like to take sometimes. So that's great that I'm getting more exercise INSIDE, but that's not helping the whole "you need sunlight Makita"issue. So I've added in 3 mile walks on non dance days and 2 mile walks on dance days OUTSIDE. IN THE SUNLIGHT. In addition, my doctor has me on medications to help with both issues. But overall, I think I'm making good progress. I also do 3 days of strength training to help with the recovery of my shoulder/arm/neck.
Most importantly, I'm helping the exercise by eating healthier. I'm currently doing a low carb/high protein diet that is diabetic based. I'm living like I have diabetes now so that I don't have to live with diabetes later. Is this a temporary thing? Nope. Why give myself health issues I have the power to control? I don't want diabetes. Yes, I admit I want a fat ass and smaller boobs. Two demons I have been battling since the dawn of my sexiness. Alas, I can survive those. After all, I gotta work what my Mama gave me. But diabetes? No. That is NOT the "D"I be talking about. Ha!
Anyway, that's me in a nutshell starting off 2014. I'd love it if you joined me on my journey.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Why Having Gay Friends Is Not Okay With Me
So I've been meaning to blog this for awhile, along with some other stuff, but I kept getting side tracked. And since I was on tonight blogging about the challenge I joined to walk 2,740 miles in 245 days, I figured why the hell not.
So let's get something clear right now before anyone jumps off the deep end and calls me homophobic. I'm not. But I sure as hell do sound homophobic at times. Say what?! But Makita! You LOVE gay people!
I do. I can't deny it. From my uncle to some of my besties to the Fab 5. Love them!
So if I love them how do I sound homophobic at times? Well, let me break it down like this. You know how people say "I'm not racist! Some of my best friends are black." Wait. I have never in my life ever said some pathetic shit like this. So let me try again. You know how people say "this is my black friend Sara." or "my black friend Mike said...". Yeah that. That shit right there sounds racist. Even if you don't intend it to be. Is there really a need to identify them as black? The only point in doing so is to try justify the utterly ridiculous shit about to come out your mouth next. Keep in mind here people, I am using the word "you" in its most general form. So if you take offense, that's a problem you should consult yourself about.
Anyway, I am guilty of this. No, I don't walk around saying my "black friend". Of course not, that would just make me look stupid. But I do at unknowingly refer to some of my friends as my "gay friend". I didn't even really notice it until my oldest son got into trouble at school for referring to something they were watching as "that's so gay." Naturally, I laid into his ass about what he said, why it was wrong, and how he might have hurt some of his classmates' feelings. I'm not saying there are some children in the classroom with same sex parents, I really don't know. My point is there could be. And his comment was utterly ridiculous and insensitive. You can thank his father for that since he loves to say that phrase. Pisses me off, but hey, I can only do so much.
So my son's incident got me to thinking about how I treat my friends who HAPPEN to be gay. And I realized when talking about someone I never ever say my "white friend Gwen" or my "Asian friend Michelle" or my friend's "African wife.". No, I never say that. So then why do I always say my "gay friend ". Yet, I never say my "gay uncle". It's like I give respect to everyone else, including my uncle who is gay. But I don't give the same respect to my friends who are gay. Instead, I label them by their sexuality. Which is pretty fucked up because that is one of the things I stand with them against. To not be labeled, objectified, or ridiculed because of their sexuality. And while I don't objectify or ridicule them, I am labeling them.
And that is not okay. So I don't have "gay friends" anymore. Yep. As of a few weeks ago when I realized what I've been doing, I dropped them. All of them. I kicked myself to the curb and ended those friendships. Because they weren't friendships. Friends don't label each other. Friends don't talk about each other in terms of their sexuality. I don't stand for people calling me their "black friend". So I for damn sure ain't about to have gay friends.
I have friends. Plain and simple. I have best friends and I have close friends. I have old friends and new friends. Friends from high school, college, work, and my neighborhood. I don't have gay friend. I have friends who happen to be straight. And I have friends who happen to be gay. Most importantly, I have friends who I simply love. So this is my open letter to any one I have ever known who I may have unintentionally referred to as my "gay friend". You are my friend and I have never seen you by your sexuality. I am sorry I have labeled you as such. I am starting our friendships anew and I promise to never label you again. Unless you piss me off and then you become "that bitch that used to be my friend".
So let's get something clear right now before anyone jumps off the deep end and calls me homophobic. I'm not. But I sure as hell do sound homophobic at times. Say what?! But Makita! You LOVE gay people!
I do. I can't deny it. From my uncle to some of my besties to the Fab 5. Love them!
So if I love them how do I sound homophobic at times? Well, let me break it down like this. You know how people say "I'm not racist! Some of my best friends are black." Wait. I have never in my life ever said some pathetic shit like this. So let me try again. You know how people say "this is my black friend Sara." or "my black friend Mike said...". Yeah that. That shit right there sounds racist. Even if you don't intend it to be. Is there really a need to identify them as black? The only point in doing so is to try justify the utterly ridiculous shit about to come out your mouth next. Keep in mind here people, I am using the word "you" in its most general form. So if you take offense, that's a problem you should consult yourself about.
Anyway, I am guilty of this. No, I don't walk around saying my "black friend". Of course not, that would just make me look stupid. But I do at unknowingly refer to some of my friends as my "gay friend". I didn't even really notice it until my oldest son got into trouble at school for referring to something they were watching as "that's so gay." Naturally, I laid into his ass about what he said, why it was wrong, and how he might have hurt some of his classmates' feelings. I'm not saying there are some children in the classroom with same sex parents, I really don't know. My point is there could be. And his comment was utterly ridiculous and insensitive. You can thank his father for that since he loves to say that phrase. Pisses me off, but hey, I can only do so much.
So my son's incident got me to thinking about how I treat my friends who HAPPEN to be gay. And I realized when talking about someone I never ever say my "white friend Gwen" or my "Asian friend Michelle" or my friend's "African wife.". No, I never say that. So then why do I always say my "gay friend ". Yet, I never say my "gay uncle". It's like I give respect to everyone else, including my uncle who is gay. But I don't give the same respect to my friends who are gay. Instead, I label them by their sexuality. Which is pretty fucked up because that is one of the things I stand with them against. To not be labeled, objectified, or ridiculed because of their sexuality. And while I don't objectify or ridicule them, I am labeling them.
And that is not okay. So I don't have "gay friends" anymore. Yep. As of a few weeks ago when I realized what I've been doing, I dropped them. All of them. I kicked myself to the curb and ended those friendships. Because they weren't friendships. Friends don't label each other. Friends don't talk about each other in terms of their sexuality. I don't stand for people calling me their "black friend". So I for damn sure ain't about to have gay friends.
I have friends. Plain and simple. I have best friends and I have close friends. I have old friends and new friends. Friends from high school, college, work, and my neighborhood. I don't have gay friend. I have friends who happen to be straight. And I have friends who happen to be gay. Most importantly, I have friends who I simply love. So this is my open letter to any one I have ever known who I may have unintentionally referred to as my "gay friend". You are my friend and I have never seen you by your sexuality. I am sorry I have labeled you as such. I am starting our friendships anew and I promise to never label you again. Unless you piss me off and then you become "that bitch that used to be my friend".
Walking from Virginia Beach to San Diego! Have I Lost My Mind?
So remember last week or the week before where I said I was going to walk every day? Well, I've been doing it. Either by walking to Wal-greens or Wal-mart. Or jumping on the treadmill. Apparently, that gave me a big head. Yep. Cause now I'm pretty sure I've either lost my mind or I'm just plain bat shit crazy. Wait, isn't that the same thing? Nah. Losing my mind is normal kind of crazy. And bat shit crazy is Michelle Bachmann crazy. And I don't think I'm quite Michelle Bachmann crazy.
So anyway, I was browsing one of the messageboards I frequent and saw a challenge that asks one to challenge their self by logging the exact number of miles either through walking/biking/running/etc that equals the distance of Virginia Beach to San Diego. 2,740 miles. I was intrigued and inspired. I love challenges! Especially when the challenge gives me some kind of glory. I can't remember what or if there is a prize for hitting the miles, but dammit I want the bragging rights! I want to be at the club (ha!) and casually drop that into a conversation. "Oh me? Well, I walked the exact number of miles it would take to get to San Diego from Virginia Beach." To then which said people I was talking to would all stop what their doing to admire me.
The challenge runs from May 1st to Dec 31st, midnight. That is 245 days to walk 2,740 miles. That's just over 11 miles a day. 11 miles. 11 MILES!!!! Do you hear me? ELEVEN MILES!!! Sweet jenkins! I don't know ouhow the hell I will log 11 miles a day. And if you're thinking "aren't there people who run like 11 miles a day or more?", I'm telling you right now, keep that information to yourself! I don't want to hear it. Seriously. Not really.
One way or another I am going to log 11 miles a day. And I plan to look drop dead gorgeous with an ass that is perfect by the time Dec. 31st hits. That's right, I'm going to be dropping it like it hot ringing in 2013. Especially since I am adding strength training to my fitness plan. I'm about to have an ass like Pam from Martin and arms like Michelle Obama. Yes ma'am!
So the way I am devising this right now in my head is to walk 5 miles by hitting Barnes and Noble. Wal-mart is 2 miles from my home and Barnes and Noble is 2.6 miles. So a trip to and from in the morning will equal over 5 miles for starters. And in the evenings either bike with the boys for 3 miles and then hit the treadmill in my gym for another 3. And every now and then mix things up with roller skating. If I can manage my time wisely, I can probably walk and bike with my youngest while the older two are at school. I'll just have to be realistic while we're in Barnes and Nobles and not get lost in the aisles. Somehow I'll figure this all out.
So anyway, I was browsing one of the messageboards I frequent and saw a challenge that asks one to challenge their self by logging the exact number of miles either through walking/biking/running/etc that equals the distance of Virginia Beach to San Diego. 2,740 miles. I was intrigued and inspired. I love challenges! Especially when the challenge gives me some kind of glory. I can't remember what or if there is a prize for hitting the miles, but dammit I want the bragging rights! I want to be at the club (ha!) and casually drop that into a conversation. "Oh me? Well, I walked the exact number of miles it would take to get to San Diego from Virginia Beach." To then which said people I was talking to would all stop what their doing to admire me.
The challenge runs from May 1st to Dec 31st, midnight. That is 245 days to walk 2,740 miles. That's just over 11 miles a day. 11 miles. 11 MILES!!!! Do you hear me? ELEVEN MILES!!! Sweet jenkins! I don't know ouhow the hell I will log 11 miles a day. And if you're thinking "aren't there people who run like 11 miles a day or more?", I'm telling you right now, keep that information to yourself! I don't want to hear it. Seriously. Not really.
One way or another I am going to log 11 miles a day. And I plan to look drop dead gorgeous with an ass that is perfect by the time Dec. 31st hits. That's right, I'm going to be dropping it like it hot ringing in 2013. Especially since I am adding strength training to my fitness plan. I'm about to have an ass like Pam from Martin and arms like Michelle Obama. Yes ma'am!
So the way I am devising this right now in my head is to walk 5 miles by hitting Barnes and Noble. Wal-mart is 2 miles from my home and Barnes and Noble is 2.6 miles. So a trip to and from in the morning will equal over 5 miles for starters. And in the evenings either bike with the boys for 3 miles and then hit the treadmill in my gym for another 3. And every now and then mix things up with roller skating. If I can manage my time wisely, I can probably walk and bike with my youngest while the older two are at school. I'll just have to be realistic while we're in Barnes and Nobles and not get lost in the aisles. Somehow I'll figure this all out.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Feet Don't Fail Me Now!
So last night I was talking to a friend from childhood about weightloss and how I can't seem to get active and STAY active. I'm not going to lie, I'm a workout groupie. What's a workout groupie? Well, like a regular groupie (minus all the nasty stuff) a workout groupie wants all of the end results (the kickass body, amazing abs, tight booty, etc), but doesn't want to put in the WORK required to get the end results. Okay, that's not fair. I always BUY DVDs, equipment, accessories, etc with the intention of sticking to the routine, but somewhere down the road I get bored and/or lazy. So I stop. So anyway back to what I was saying, talking to my friend I realized just how much walking I used to do. Having no car will do that. So I decided to challenge myself to put away the car keys and to break out my legs. Yep, my two trusty friends who have been with me since birth. Who have stumbled with me and stood tall with me.
The challenge? Walk every day for at least an hour. AND instead of jumping in my car to go to Walmart or Target or any of the stores close to my house, walk there. Now this doesn't mean to do this for trips that require large purchases, but for little ones. Like do I really need to get in my car to return a Redbox DVD or pick up paper towels? No. That's just me being a lazy fat ass. Armed with nothing but my boy in his stroller, 2 bottles of water, an iPod, and a little towel.
Today turned out to be day 1. I just knew I would walk it with no trouble at all. WRONG! All kinds of shit went wrong. Well, not wrong, but not exactly right either.
So my son and I left the house today at 10:00am, but then turned around because we forgot the iPod...and the mailbox key...and the water...and the sunglasses. So after we got all that together (but not the sunglasses because I couldn't find them, more on that later) we finally left at 10:24. Then I realized something, we only had one iPod. One iPod.....ONE iPOD. Let that sink in for a minute. See the problem? I wanted to get my fitness jam on, he wanted to watch Cars. No big deal, I could hang without music. I could just hum or something. Right? WRONG! At first it wasn't a big deal, I was humming along, feeling great. We had just gotten started and were descending down the first hill near my apartments. A breeze.
Until we came to our first empty field. Full of flowers. Now my son was all good in his stroller, enjoying his movie, sipping his water. Me, on the other hand? I was all kinds of fucked up. The flowers assaulted me like I had stolen their lunch money. I had gone too far to turn around and get some Claritin for myself. I told myself it wasn't that bad. A few sneezes wouldn't kill me. I made it through the first field, then the second, then the third, but the fourth field...that one KILLED me! I sneezed so much I had to stop to catch my breath. But I kept pushing on because Wal-greens was in sight. A few minutes later, we made it to Wal-greens where I returned our Redbox movies, took a few sips of water, and then carried on. You would think that since I was at a PHARMACY and had just survived a brutal attack by flowers I would, I don't know, GO INSIDE AND GET SOME CLARITIN!!! Nope, not my dumb ass. I didn't want to spend money on something I knew I already had at home. Right...apparently, that logic is very selective because that's not how it went down at Wal-mart.
So renewed with some water and a quick rest, we moved onto Wal-mart. This time we had to pass by a few businesses, KFC (barf), Wendys (mmm...frosties!), H-E-B (I wouldn't shop there to save my life), and a few other places. No problem. The terrain was flat so it was all good. Hell, I even starting singing the lyrics to Notorious Thugs by Bone, Thugs, N Harmony, and Biggie Smalls (I was really surprised cause I haven't heard that song in years). But then came what almost became the death of me. A hill. The incline was probably about 60 degrees, not too bad, but goodness I wasn't ready for it. It is so much different when you drive in a car.
But I refused to be defeated, I could see Wal-mart in front of me. I started hyping myself up. "Girl, you got this. You GOT this!" It was all good. WRONG! Alongside that hill was another field. But then I realized it was the field where the cows graze. So I got excited because I would get to see cows. Nope. No cows. Apparently, they were grazing somewhere else because they weren't around. Instead, it was another field of fucking flowers. I sneezed so bad at one point, I saw little stars and my head started pounding. I'm sure at this point I looked like a scene from out of the Walking Dead. Blood shot eyes, saliva dripping from my chin, staggering around. Miserable.
But once I made it over that hill, I was home free! Wal-mart was just on the other side. I was just a few feet from victory. In just a few minutes, I would burst through the doors into it's icy cold goodness, have a long swallow of water, and get those damn paper towels that had started this horrific decent into hell.
Finally, I made it. Victory. Sweet. Victory.
I walked inside, mentally high fiving myself and then I stopped. It was hotter than a mofo in Wal-mart. WTF?! I was NOT amused. Really, Wal-mart? You couldn't turn on the damn air?! I told myself to just shake it off and go walk through the freezer section. On my way there, I ran into my "Jake Ryan" (who? google it and Sixteen Candles). Damn. No, not damn. FUCK!!!!!!!!!! Double fuck!!!!
I am secretly in love with this man. Okay, not in love. But I am seriously crushing on him. I see him and I get giggly, and my knees get weak, and he says my name and my heart flutters. I've been digging him for almost a year now. I met him last year when I moved here and goodness he is just so sexy. So anyway, he sees me (looking like death warmed over) and says hey. He asks me if I'm okay. "You look a little worn down". I blushed and told him I had walked here. He says oh really? and asks me how far. So I looked down at my pedometer and said (casually like I wasn't in a hurry to get to the freezer section) "oh just 2 miles or so". Yeah, I said that shit all carefree like it was nothing, like it was something I did every day. Well, he said he was impressed and started telling me about his fitness routine. I may or may not have been picturing him naked while he described his routine. He asked me what section I was heading to and I didn't want to tell him that I was headed to rub my body against the frozen broccoli and carrots, so I said I was headed to Electronics to look for another iPod. So he walked back with me and we started talking music. It was nice. It was fun. It was awesome. If only I hadn't been covered in sweat and looking grimy. But oh well, it went much better than the last time I had saw him. So after 20 minutes we parted ways. He went back to work and I pretended interest in iPods before I headed over to the freezer section.
So remember that logic I have of hating to buy something I already have at home? Yeah, neither did I when I was in Wal-mart. I bought a new fanny pack (what? I gotta carry my stuff in something!) and another pedometer. Even though I have one that I was WEARING that works perfectly fine. Yeah, I just wanted a newer one for some stupid reason. And I bought some sunglasses. Yep. Money well wasted. LOL.
The trip home was less eventful as we walked on the opposite side of the street. This side is well manicured because it's where all of the Dell buildings are and the Sears call center is. So less fields to walk by meant less sneezes.
So I made it through today's walk. Absolutely crazy, but I did it. Now the real challenge will be doing it all again tomorrow.
The challenge? Walk every day for at least an hour. AND instead of jumping in my car to go to Walmart or Target or any of the stores close to my house, walk there. Now this doesn't mean to do this for trips that require large purchases, but for little ones. Like do I really need to get in my car to return a Redbox DVD or pick up paper towels? No. That's just me being a lazy fat ass. Armed with nothing but my boy in his stroller, 2 bottles of water, an iPod, and a little towel.
Today turned out to be day 1. I just knew I would walk it with no trouble at all. WRONG! All kinds of shit went wrong. Well, not wrong, but not exactly right either.
So my son and I left the house today at 10:00am, but then turned around because we forgot the iPod...and the mailbox key...and the water...and the sunglasses. So after we got all that together (but not the sunglasses because I couldn't find them, more on that later) we finally left at 10:24. Then I realized something, we only had one iPod. One iPod.....ONE iPOD. Let that sink in for a minute. See the problem? I wanted to get my fitness jam on, he wanted to watch Cars. No big deal, I could hang without music. I could just hum or something. Right? WRONG! At first it wasn't a big deal, I was humming along, feeling great. We had just gotten started and were descending down the first hill near my apartments. A breeze.
Until we came to our first empty field. Full of flowers. Now my son was all good in his stroller, enjoying his movie, sipping his water. Me, on the other hand? I was all kinds of fucked up. The flowers assaulted me like I had stolen their lunch money. I had gone too far to turn around and get some Claritin for myself. I told myself it wasn't that bad. A few sneezes wouldn't kill me. I made it through the first field, then the second, then the third, but the fourth field...that one KILLED me! I sneezed so much I had to stop to catch my breath. But I kept pushing on because Wal-greens was in sight. A few minutes later, we made it to Wal-greens where I returned our Redbox movies, took a few sips of water, and then carried on. You would think that since I was at a PHARMACY and had just survived a brutal attack by flowers I would, I don't know, GO INSIDE AND GET SOME CLARITIN!!! Nope, not my dumb ass. I didn't want to spend money on something I knew I already had at home. Right...apparently, that logic is very selective because that's not how it went down at Wal-mart.
So renewed with some water and a quick rest, we moved onto Wal-mart. This time we had to pass by a few businesses, KFC (barf), Wendys (mmm...frosties!), H-E-B (I wouldn't shop there to save my life), and a few other places. No problem. The terrain was flat so it was all good. Hell, I even starting singing the lyrics to Notorious Thugs by Bone, Thugs, N Harmony, and Biggie Smalls (I was really surprised cause I haven't heard that song in years). But then came what almost became the death of me. A hill. The incline was probably about 60 degrees, not too bad, but goodness I wasn't ready for it. It is so much different when you drive in a car.
But I refused to be defeated, I could see Wal-mart in front of me. I started hyping myself up. "Girl, you got this. You GOT this!" It was all good. WRONG! Alongside that hill was another field. But then I realized it was the field where the cows graze. So I got excited because I would get to see cows. Nope. No cows. Apparently, they were grazing somewhere else because they weren't around. Instead, it was another field of fucking flowers. I sneezed so bad at one point, I saw little stars and my head started pounding. I'm sure at this point I looked like a scene from out of the Walking Dead. Blood shot eyes, saliva dripping from my chin, staggering around. Miserable.
But once I made it over that hill, I was home free! Wal-mart was just on the other side. I was just a few feet from victory. In just a few minutes, I would burst through the doors into it's icy cold goodness, have a long swallow of water, and get those damn paper towels that had started this horrific decent into hell.
Finally, I made it. Victory. Sweet. Victory.
I walked inside, mentally high fiving myself and then I stopped. It was hotter than a mofo in Wal-mart. WTF?! I was NOT amused. Really, Wal-mart? You couldn't turn on the damn air?! I told myself to just shake it off and go walk through the freezer section. On my way there, I ran into my "Jake Ryan" (who? google it and Sixteen Candles). Damn. No, not damn. FUCK!!!!!!!!!! Double fuck!!!!
I am secretly in love with this man. Okay, not in love. But I am seriously crushing on him. I see him and I get giggly, and my knees get weak, and he says my name and my heart flutters. I've been digging him for almost a year now. I met him last year when I moved here and goodness he is just so sexy. So anyway, he sees me (looking like death warmed over) and says hey. He asks me if I'm okay. "You look a little worn down". I blushed and told him I had walked here. He says oh really? and asks me how far. So I looked down at my pedometer and said (casually like I wasn't in a hurry to get to the freezer section) "oh just 2 miles or so". Yeah, I said that shit all carefree like it was nothing, like it was something I did every day. Well, he said he was impressed and started telling me about his fitness routine. I may or may not have been picturing him naked while he described his routine. He asked me what section I was heading to and I didn't want to tell him that I was headed to rub my body against the frozen broccoli and carrots, so I said I was headed to Electronics to look for another iPod. So he walked back with me and we started talking music. It was nice. It was fun. It was awesome. If only I hadn't been covered in sweat and looking grimy. But oh well, it went much better than the last time I had saw him. So after 20 minutes we parted ways. He went back to work and I pretended interest in iPods before I headed over to the freezer section.
So remember that logic I have of hating to buy something I already have at home? Yeah, neither did I when I was in Wal-mart. I bought a new fanny pack (what? I gotta carry my stuff in something!) and another pedometer. Even though I have one that I was WEARING that works perfectly fine. Yeah, I just wanted a newer one for some stupid reason. And I bought some sunglasses. Yep. Money well wasted. LOL.
The trip home was less eventful as we walked on the opposite side of the street. This side is well manicured because it's where all of the Dell buildings are and the Sears call center is. So less fields to walk by meant less sneezes.
So I made it through today's walk. Absolutely crazy, but I did it. Now the real challenge will be doing it all again tomorrow.
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