Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Old People, Perfect Ponytails, and Mean Girls

I like going to the gym at around noon-ish.
At that it’s mostly out of shape people over 40 and great older folks in their 70s.
Although I don’t talk to anybody at the gym, I’ve come to see these nice older people as my friends. Okay, I’m being a bit facetious. Well, a lot facetious.
But, I want to describe these lovely people who work out when I do.

There’s a woman in her 70s who I’ve only ever seen on the treadmill. She usually wears a pink or light blue sweater with khaki pants. Her gray hair is in a ponytail that she wears on the top of her head. From my vantage point on the track, it looks like she has her eyes closed as she exercises.

There’s an adorable, obscenely short woman with super short gray hair and glasses, who wears shorts, and carries a piece of paper with her exercising plan on it around the track. She’s really cute.

There is an older gentleman who was dressed like Spiderman. He had a Spiderman shirt with matching exercising shorts, and red exercise leggings with webs on them.

Then, there are the older people who decide they want to walk in the middle lane of the track when the sign clearly says that the far right lane is for walkers.

The whole gym is peppered with these grandparents working out in jeans, corduroys, and shoes that aren’t even remotely okay for exercising.

But I like them. These wonderful people are exciting to work out with. I feel super awesome when I do.

So then, a couple of weeks ago I decided to go work out a little earlier than noon-ish. I think it was around 9 a.m. Imagine my horror when I arrived and the gym was filled mostly with attractive young people in their 20s and 30s.

I started jogging around the track. And then, this hot chick with her perfect ponytail, blonde hair, and matching fitness outfit kept lapping me around the track. I kept it together, but inside I looked like this.

When it happened the third and fourth time, I had an internal battle with myself on whether or not I should stick my arm out as she was passing me to trip her.

Later, I had to ask myself why I was so mad. I was mad for the sole reason that she was hot and in better shape than me.  What if somebody saw me at the gym and was like, “Look at the girl with the brown frizzy curly hair in a messy bun, of average attractive level, trying to get fit. I want to trip her.” I would think that person was a bitch/douchebag.
I was a bitch for a minute.

Now for clarification, I don’t want to blonde. Never have. Well, there was a short time in 7th grade I had blonde highlights.. And I don’t even want to be as skinny as that chick was. I’m a curvy woman. I’ll always have childbearing hips that won’t go away unless I give up food permanently. (Which will never happen.)

This is a long shot, but a word to ladies out there.
The next time you find yourself “hating” on another girl just because she’s more (blank) than you, ask yourself if you’d like her to hate on you for the opposite reason. If you’re reasonable, you’d say no.
Cuz that’d be dumb. 

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

This is depressing.

I stared at a blank white computer screen for about four days before I typed this sentence.

I’ve always fancied myself some sort of writer.

I remember being ages 7 to 11 and writing tons and tons of stories.
Mind you, they were mostly about heroines who were only children, or who had only one sibling. (The opposite of my childhood, with my 5 little siblings.)
All these stories I wrote as a kid had endings that tied the conflict of the story in simple Disney-esque resolutions.

In college, the papers I wrote had conclusions and endings that wrapped “the whole shebang “ into a nice little bow. Super easy and convenient for my professors to give me an “A”.

And now, I think about being a writer of a blog.
And not just a blog for the sake of writing, but a blog that is meant to discuss a journey—a journey to a healthier body, mind, and probably soul as well.

And because of the nature of my blog and my journey, I can’t always have cute little Disney-esque endings.
Or even concluding thoughts that end with impactful lessons.

For instance, I’ve been REALLY working out since February. And I see no change at all in my body. Sometimes I think that maybe there used to be a cellulite spot on my leg and now there isn’t, but I think I’m really just guessing at this point. If the following Pinterest picture is any indication, then I’m doing something terribly wrong.


So, where do I go from here?

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

"Hiking" at Devil's Lake.

Last Saturday I went to Devil’s Lake with some friends: Laura, Grete, Dan, Nathan, and Drew.
I thought we were going to go hiking.
On a trail.
Boy, did I completely misunderstand what was happening.

About twenty minutes of walking on a flat surface, we start climbing boulders.
And these boulders went straight up the mountainside.
Maybe I’m exaggerating.
But probably not.

I kinda have a fear of heights.
A rational fear of heights, mind you.
I love roller coasters.
I like being in tall buildings and looking out the windows.
Heck, I visited the Sears/Willis Tower a couple months ago.
Those are all fine and dandy.
But Heights where there is a real and potential threat of me slipping my foot in to the wrong place and falling to my death…that is what I’m scared of.

I almost completely gave up once we were about six feet off the level ground.
I was also near the front of the hikers. Everybody had to wait for me to move my behind in order to progress up the boulders. That’s not a lovely feeling. I think that’s the only thing that kept me going, know that I could be slowing down or ruining my comrades’ adventure.

Well, I’m glad I didn’t give up.
I had a really fun time.
I was with good company.
I laughed.
I cried….when, my toenail ripped in half…because I was wearing Chacos. okay, I didn’t cry. But it did rip my toe in half.

It was basically pretty awesome exercise. I was working out my arms and legs from pulling myself up.
Girl Power for Grete!
My glasses look awesome on Grete's concerned face. 
Drew's "rockin".

 I was too much of a pansy, when my comrades started rock climbing with real rock climbing equipment, belaying and all. Dan, Drew, and Grete all rock climbed. They all looked super cool and hardcore. I think I need to trim down about 20 pounds before I even attempt to legitimately rock climb.

I’d do it again, though.
And I won’t wear Chacos. 

All photos stolen from Laura and Dan. 

Saturday, April 7, 2012

I had did a 5K.

A little over a month ago, I went home to Georgia for my friends' wedding.
I was there for a little less than 48 hours.
I was coerced into doing a 5K with my friends.
Well, actually the conversation went more like this

Text message from Lorraine:
"Do you want to run in a 5K with Melissa and Jessie and I when you're here?"
Me thinking: hmm...I just started working out....I have no reason not to.
Answers: Yes.

So, I was coerced into.
I wrote a blog post during the fall about the hills of Athens, GA.
They are gruesome.
The 5K was up those damn hills.

My only goal going in was to complete it in 45 minutes.
I completed it in 42 minutes.

Please enjoy the following two pictures as proof of my 5K run(/jog/walk....)

This is us in the middle of the action, obviously. 

This is us not in mid run, clearly. 

Also, this is funny and true. 

In conclusion...*Insert something inspirational*

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Sabbath and Contacts

I took a Sabbath: a Sabbath from exercising.
I decided not to exercise for a week.
I took a cue from the Old Testament.
In the Bible, there is lots of mention of Sabbath. God commands the Hebrews to rest on the seventh day. Even the plants get a Sabbath! God commands that every seven years, the land takes a yearlong rest. So, obviously, God likes rest.
I had been working out pretty hard…well, more than I’ve ever worked out in my life. Which, I suppose, may or not mean anything to anybody.

Working out had become a duty to me.
I didn’t enjoy it and I didn’t want to do it.
Come to find out, the Sabbath was just what I needed.
When I came back to work out, my body was all like “Yeah, Becky! Let’s get fit!”
It felt awesome.
Today, I actually looked forward to going, and felt suuuper awesome!

I’ve noticed there are certain little changes I make before exercising that I’m convinced will make exercising a more enjoyable experience.
I wrote about the time that I wore my magical Harry Potter shirt and was able to jog farther. In college, I was convinced I could exercise better if I wore a tank top. Today, I decided that to have the optimal work out experience, one must wear contacts. Not glasses.
Glasses cloud the mind.
Glasses fog up when I sweat.
Glasses make me look lame.
But contacts, oh no. I look awesome in contacts.

I’m quite convinced there is a correlation between the level of how awesome you feel and the level off how productive a work out is.

New exercise formula: wear contacts more.