So much of the fitness and health writing out there is so dry you practically have to hydrate after you read it. I think it’s time we injected some humor into the genre.
This is just a good song about motivation, and a GOOD song, rrrowwww.
So I have a few posts half-written, which matches my half-assed workouts perfectly, so there you go. Did you know January is a very busy month for trainers? Everyone and their cousin wants to get in shape, though the distance between desire and action is long for many people. In my case, it’s usually not long enough for things that are bad for me, and pretty much miles when it comes to working out, so I’ll tell you about that because, FASCINATING. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who experiences flagging motivation. (I think you can also take a small blue pill for it.) And thus, point number one: Read the rest of this entry »
I’m going to slink in like I’ve been here the whole time. If someone asks why I haven’t posted, I’m going to toss my head and drop something about “coma” or “kidnapped by religious-political group and made to do bank heists” and leave it at that.
Nah, 2009 was kind of a thbbbthh year in some ways, culminating in a thbbbthhh couple months during which I wrote NOTHING except cryptic emails and to-do lists with item #1: “Go to store and buy a new life”.
But Whatever. It’s 2010, I’m getting back to feeling like myself slowly but surely, and this part is just the la-la-la shit for myself. I make no posting promises, but I’m here now baby, and all we have is now. Hey, I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly awaaaay…
So because running is no longer effective for curbing my incessant mind-spinning and head-fucking, I’ve decided to outsource all that to my sister. Read the rest of this entry »
Yeah yeah, I haven’t written anything in a while. The longest stretch ever, actually. See, I quit fitness and moved to the mountains and found my higher self, and her name is Rawunda-Spirit-Wolfchild and she doesn’t need to do athletic things, because she is too evolved to bother with her corporeal self.
Or I’ve just been busy and kind of overwhelmed for reasons far too boring to detail here, and writing for me is like exercise—once you get out of the habit, it is a bitch to get back into it. Hey, I have been working out though! As if anyone cares but me. I kind of wonder if I killed this blog for good with my being gone. Let’s find out. Oh, and I even wrote this post a while ago but never published it because I didn’t like it that particularly, but now I’m too out of practice to care so much, and I figure everyone has gone home anyway, so what the hell. Read the rest of this entry »
The second-creepiest picture ever.So I am DONE with my required 30 days of workin out, and here’s the number one thing I got from it: It didn’t feel that different from my usual routine, perhaps because I both got sick near the end and had to take a li’l time off, and because some of my workouts were less athletic and more like standing around with a dumbbell in hand. So you could say I probably have a relatively active life in general anyway, or that I have a way of building in rest when needed by phoning in workouts, or that if there’s a loophole (like a 30 minute minimum), I’m already halfway through it, and probably need near-constant surveillance to deliver an acceptable showing. Say what you will, your words can’t hurt me, man.
Before I go on about me, which kind of bores even me sometimes, I did read something (yay for me) all by myself with no one helping me with the big words Read the rest of this entry »
Wow, this workout burns almost as many calories as eating a doughnut, with half the sweat.How’s the challenge going? Oh, fine thanks. I did take time off when I was sick last week, which I believe I outlined in challenge clause 1B. “barring illness…” I’m not a total freak-o, you know. Cough cough. I also should share that however low the bar is, that’s where I go: While my workouts have increased in frequency, they hit just over 30 minutes sometimes, where I used to enforce a good hour with good, old-fashioned anal retentiveness. Shoot for the floor, don’t let em step on your dreams!
I have been sore regularly though. That was the ultimate goal, right? Not performance or discipline or accomplishment, just lactic acid build-up. Check! Read the rest of this entry »
They let me use the elliptical because my tits are better than yours.Oh. My. God. Can I just tell you I had the BEST run today? I was flying, it was magical, I beat my mile running time by 20 seconds, and felt great afterwards. And I just has that amazing workout two days ago too. Can you believe it? Maybe this is it, I’ve hit a new level of fitness prowess and I’m becoming the very best athlete I can be!
No, I’m fucking with you. My run today was total shit. Probably one the bottom ten runs of all-time. Never got better, it was a slog, I was essentially picking up each leg with my arms and thudding it in front of the other one. I suffered for four miles, which is two less than I usually do, and it was a bloody miracle I finished those, what with the grannies and the toddlers passing me on the track, spitefully even. Read the rest of this entry »
No, Sarah, I can only program the elliptical when I am wearing the glove of power. What, does my glove make you nervous? I understand completely.There is only one thing in life that is certain. No, not taxes, cuz there’s probably places in the world where you don’t pay those; and not death, because I already cheated that in my pact with Satan (you know, make people suffer greatly at least twice daily on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays in exchange for immortality.) No, the only certainty is change. No matter what is happening in the universe, it’ll get different if you wait long enough.
In my very dark and special universe spattered with crushed souls and foul incense and goat blood (totally cribbing Anton LaVey today, let’s see what kind of spam I get NOW, you should see what happened when I named a post, “Toss the Salad”) it changes all the damn time. The day before yesterday I sat down to write an update to my 30 day-minimum-30-minute workout challenge, (that’ll be the name of my workout video too, btw, and it will come with a set of resistance tactics bands and half a set of day-of-the-week underwear) and then went, “Oh fuck it.” Because that was my day, it was an “oh fuck it” day (there’s a hole in my fuck-it, dear Liza, dear…flay me please.) I did work out and I have worked out every day since I posted. Some of those workouts have been ass. Most have been ass. I don’t mean I worked out my ass, I mean, oh, you know. Suckalicious. Lame. Booty Ick Ugh. Not to put too fine a point on it. Read the rest of this entry »
Jaime Lee speaks to me, don’t fail me now, Goddess of the Thong Leotard.This is the longest I’ve gone without posting since starting FF almost three years ago. I used to update very regularly, I was like the fiber of bloggers, dumping posts like…ummm, EWWWW. But in the last year, since co-founding a gym, and getting divorced, and taking care of my kid, and doing all kinds of very important stuff, I’ve let more than a few things slide.
One of them is obviously posting, but I’ll deal more with that later. Because another thing I’ve been feeling lately is that my workouts have been going downhill fast. And so the timing of doing challenges is perfect for me. Because here’s my overall challenge: GET MY FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER. Suck it up and just fucking work out.
When I started running I had a routine and I did not deviate. With a job and an eight-month-old, I had exactly one time when I could run, and that was 5am. Weekends gave me the luxury of running at 7am. And I did it most days, in part because that time was precious to me.
G&R: Words for every occasion.
I realized two things lately. 1) When it comes to competition, I am kind of an asshole, and 2) when it comes to learning, I am a highly impatient person.
Did you think I’d be throwing down my challenges today? Nuh uh. I’m highly hormonal and therefore my challenge at the moment is to stop listening to forlorn chick music, stop sniffling like a baby, and to stop eating rice krispie treats, which are a food made by Satan with no nutritional redeeming qualities whatsoever but a mighty tasty allure during this particular hormonal stretch.
Readers will rejoice when I hit menopause. Only maybe 20 more years to go!
Yeah, So You Think You Can Dance. This is about addiction, the guy is playing the addiction, the girl is the addict. And it’s the best dance ever. I will admit I sobbed at this, and more than once. I just welled up posting the damn video. So sue me!
So I mentioned a challenge last post, was that twelve years ago? If you will recall, we have done some no-sweets challenges in the past, one culminating in someone wearing a leotard. The idea behind some of the challenges was that when you are obsessive and voracious about something like, oh, say CUPCAKES, maybe it’s a good practice to try and abstain for a while just to see if you can do it.
Well, actually I just did it because I was dared, and I’m the kind of person who accepts pretty much any challenge, fists up. It’s really ego more than self-control or nobility that drives me. Surprise! Read the rest of this entry »
