Final Time - 46.41

WE DID IT!~

And I didn't walk a whole lot, but I did stop for short intervals in order to regain my focus--oh, by the 3 mile marker-- I had catch my breath because I was crying so hard. This is a small goal that was set, and accomplished and I feel GREAT. Thank you all for your encouragement, support and love. I felt it today. I'll write more later, time to hang out with the family.....

Running on Everything

This is it! The 5k is in less than two days and I am as ready as I will ever be!

My husband and I ran last week and he got to listen to my iPod for the first time. He surprised me by saying that I should slow down some of the music so that I can pace myself. He was so right—and for any man to have his wife burst into the house exclaiming that phrase is pretty much like telling him that he just won the lottery.

So I downloaded Drive: Nike+ Original Run by The Crystal Method from the iTunes store. It’s about 45 minutes of pure beats. It starts a little slow and gets going, then brings it back to slower and just when I thought I would start walking again, the beat speeds up and my ears and heart are full of newfound energy-enough to keep me running. At certain points, I serioulsy felt like Brad Pitt in "Burn Before Reading."

I highly recommend this mix to everyone. It kept me on the treadmill for just under 1 full mile—which was the longest I have ran since I started this thing called running! On Saturday, I plan on putting it to the test.

So it’s a big week, the final hoorah. The run, a big comedy show at the legendary Purple Onion where famous comics like Robin Williams, Lenny Bruce, Woody Allen, Richard Pryor, Phyllis Diller (who made her stand-up debut here), the Kingston Trio and the Smothers Brothers (who recorded their first album, Live at the Purple Onion) have all performed. Of course current famous comics like Zach Galifianakis, Todd Barry, Dan Piraro and Judah Friedlander have recently graced the exact stage that we will be standing on tonight. It’s kind of a big deal to us.

And then we celebrate Daisy's birthday and the countdown to Maui begins….which is why I started this blog in February.

I am feeling strong and alive and I am really happy with the space I am in.

I am done beating myself up for not working harder on the training for the run and for not being at my desired goal for our trip. I have shed inches, lost weight and adapted a new lifestyle and attitude toward fitness and health in general and that knowledge is POWER. I have worked though a lot of issues and been able to literally run from my troubles as oppose to eating them.

I know I am a procrastinator and also competitive which is a funny combination. If I had run as hard over the past two months as I have over the past two weeks, I would probably be bored with a measly 5k. But I didn't and I know I need to pace myself Saturday or it will be brutal. However, I know the competitive side of me will most likely target someone there and before I know it, my head will rock back and forth, and my finger will go up in the air as I say "OhHellNaw-there-is-no-way-SHE-is-beating-me!" And before you know it, I will have ran the entire 3.1 miles and then not be able to walk in Maui.

Either way, the fact is--I am proud of myself.

These last 8 months have been hard, humbling and left me vulnerable. But I believe that when you are vulnerable, you are able to truly grow if you want to. I want to. I want this healthy lifestyle. I like eating right and keeping a positive attitude, even when I am low-low-low. I like the smell of the gym and the sweat that pours down my back. I like the way my body feels and how it has shrunken and tightened up and curved. And most of all, I like the example I am setting for the little woman I am raising.

You all have been a huge inspiration for me and I appreciate all the emails, posts and comments. Next week, I am going to post a blog titled “How we planned a trip to Maui on 1 income.” I think it will be very motivating for you all and I think you’ll be surprised at how cheap we did it, and how you can too.

Think of me Saturday morning! Looking forward to telling you how the 5k goes!

My American Pride Runneth Over

My good friend, Rebecca Love came home from Afghanistan yesterday. It was a monumental day for us. Her parents, her childhood best friend, April, myself and my daughter were all present to greet her as soon as she walked off that airplane. Not many know this, but if you have a solider coming home from the war, you are allowed to meet them at the gate. So, as the seven of us waited in anticipation for our camouflage queen to step out of the seemingly never-ending tunnel, six other military men—who we knew were also coming home from the war—stepped off the plane into a sea of strangers. As they looked around for their loved ones, we shook their hands and thanked them for their service. My heart was heavy as the disappointment, or perhaps confusion, washed across their faces when they realized that their loved ones were downstairs. (Like I said, not very many people know that they can obtain a passenger pass and meet their vet at the gate--spread the word).

Anyways, the men walked past us and continued on toward the escalator.

Unbeknownst to these soldiers, there was a small crowd of older vets waiting for them at the bottom of the escalator. They reminded me of my grandfathers, uncles and dad. They wore baseball caps covered in patches and pins, and green or blue satin jackets showing their pride for their unit or ship. They waved American Flags and hugged the six men, bridging a gap that only vets can do—an unspoken gratuitous gesture of hope for a full recovery and a wish for a successful life after being a witness to the unimaginable. Many of the older vets' wives stood next to their decorated husbands. They wore colorful, bedazzled American Flag sweaters and red, white and blue star earrings. It's pretty safe to say that the men who greeted these young soldiers probably did not experience such a welcome in their time. It's a testament to the dedication and allegiance to our nation that keeps them visiting that airport week after week and all I could think of was "God bless them."

As we waited for Becca, a line of passengers stood to our right. They were waiting to get onto the same plane that these war heroes had just stepped off of. None of them paid the six men any attention. I found that odd and sad, but then again, in today's non-human-contact era, I was not surprised. Perhaps many would rather text a friend or update his or her Facebook page saying "just saw some military guys returning home-I support our troops!"

As the six men disappeared down the escalator to meet their loved ones, we focused on the tunnel in front of us. Tired people rolled their luggage past us, weary from their long flight and eager to get home. Although the plane carried maybe 200 people, it seemed like a thousand passengers came out of that tunnel before our Becca. Once the pilots exited, we began to get anxious, but just then; a tall, thin, beautiful image emerged at the end of the tunnel. It was her. Our soldier. The one we have missed and written and worried about for over a year. Her face was tired, but lit up when she saw the seven of us stretch up on our tippy toes to meet her gaze (we probably looked like Meerkats!) And then she stepped out of the tunnel! We could have tackled her, and maybe we would have, but all was interrupted by a 10 year old little girl named Daisy, who upon seeing "her Becca" ran and jumped into this soldier's arms. Becca twirled her around and tears were shed. And there it was, our loved one was home safe on her home ground, receiving one of the best things that few have had the pleasure experiencing—a Daisy-hug. I just stood there and took it all in. Words can't express the feeling of witnessing this sweet moment, my friend, the innocence of my overjoyed daughter. Tears happily streamed down my face and then I heard it—a cheering crowd. The long line of awaiting passengers erupted into applause, whistling and hollering and I don't think one of them had a dry eye. I even overheard one man say "Wow! She finally gets to see her daughter!" And THAT made me smile because little did he know, that quite the opposite was true, as I was standing next to Becca's parents and I knew that, no, THESE people get to see THEIR daughter.

I will never forget the embrace that touched so many yesterday in a Sacramento Airport in California. But I walked away sad that this moment was what touched the hearts of so many—not the fact that six American heroes stepped off that same plane moments earlier and were greeted by a silent crowd. Although we did not witness the family reunion that awaited those men at the bottom of the staircase—they are just as important to many friends, family and American citizens as our Becca is to us.

So, if for some chance, you see a solider in an airport, shake his or her hand. Clap for the ones that come off the plane. Look in their eyes—that have seen more than we ever will—and say THANK YOU. And for God's sake if you can, buy that solider a cold beer.


Welcome home Becca. We sure missed you.

Worry Knot

Clearly understand, there isn't any situation that isn't made worse by worry. Worry never solves anything. Worry never prevents anything. Worry never heals anything. Worry serves only one purpose... it makes matters worse.
~Bob Procter


I’m a worrier. I am worried about the 5k. Worried I will not be able to run it all. Worried that my heart has some defect that no one knows about until it’s too late, and I will fall, die and not be able to goto Hawaii. I am worried about Hawaii-falling off the road to Hana, salmonella poisoning, sleeping in a bug-infested bed, sharks, jellyfish, riptides and the plane-oh the plane-what if???? My father in-law told me not to worry about things in the water because they have a really big net out there that keeps the big fish away, so I suppose I can stop worrying about that. But what if there is a hole in the net?

I am a bona-fide worrier. I worry about this too—I worry that I will stop this blog, get really, super fat again and just be that way the rest of my life.

I worry about daily things too—like farting on stage, really loud and then having to finish my set. I worry about offending people. I worry that one day I won’t be able to make money in comedy—and I also worry about the person I will be if I ever do get a big break.

I worry about my loved ones and my friends (a lot), I worry about my financial future, I worry about germs and roller coasters and my daughter and people in third-world countries. I think about a lot of other things, but I don’t want to worry you.

And sometimes, I worry that the gravitational pull of the universe is just going to stop one day and we will all float into space—and then—and only then—I know I would regret all the worrying I did. What a waste to worry about the present moment right now. The running, the losing weight, the trip to Hawaii and how I should have really enjoyed this time.

So I’m focused on changing the way I worry these next two weeks. With the help of Xanax, friends and family I plan on enjoying every second of next week beginning with good workouts and ending with my first 5k.

You get one life peeps—let’s live it UP. Have a great weekend.

The Final Countdown

Where's Europe when you need them? Que 1980’s rocker music please. Let's see how long this song stays in your head!

So, yeah. It’s the final countdown to the 5k (August 28), I am so not ready. I am, however, on the verge of a frosting binge.

First—Bob Harpers crazy Dip challenge that I posted last week—yeah, I did it—ONE TIME. Holy shit! It made my arms sore for three days! And the Planks? Fughettaboutit—no way. I can’t even hold for 10 seconds—much less 30.

And don’t get me started with the E2 diet—uhm. I read the book—WIN. I planned on trying it, but didn’t. FAIL.

Look, I am probably my biggest critic, but I will be very disappointed if I can’t run the entire race. Even if I run like an old lady—fast walking—this is an important goal I have set for myself. I also set other goals for my trip to Hawaii, and even though I have achieved some, I have failed miserably at others. So what gives? Sometimes this is just too overwhelming. No amount of inspirational quotes will make me feel like my ultimate goal is obtainable.

Perhaps I have put way too much pressure on myself to achieve so much all at the same time? I have no idea. What I do know, is that part of me feels amazing-strong-happy and sexy-curvy. The other part is saying that I failed and once the trip is over, it makes no sense to continue—open mouth, insert vanilla frosting. I am kidding of course, but these are my inner demons and to quote the profitable Eminem, “I’m exercising these Mother-effers—they’re doing jumping jacks!”

It’s time to create a list of things I am proud of and a list of things I still want to see happen.

Here are a few things I am proud of:

1. I have used my gym membership every week since we bought it in February.

2. I have been praying to God every morning—to help me get through the day in the best possible way I know how.

3. The more I work on my positive thoughts—the more positivity I have attracted.

4. My comedy has been more productive this year than any of the past six years!

5. I have reached out and spent quality time with people who are positive influences in my life.

6. As a couple, we have been set and adhered to boundaries that prevent us from drama, chaos and other types of negative derailments.

7. I like the way I feel after a run, especially on a Saturday morning workout. My mind is clear, my energy soars and I feel alive!

8. I have broken old habits—a few years ago, there is no way I could have continued this journey, in fact, my old self would have stopped blogging long ago. To date, I have missed two weeks worth of entries…and not in a row! HOLLA!

9. I don’t feel like the “fat chick” in public or in a group anymore.

10. I am going to Hawaii—and we paid CASH for the entire trip.


Things I would like to focus on:

1. I haven’t maintained the monthly pics. I wasn’t prepared for the roller coaster of emotions that snapping a photo would create, but sharing those photos keeps me honest!

2. I still have my days when I want to stab the world with a spork, but there are always going to be those days. Again, it’s called life.

3. I need a meal program that works.

I am pretty stoked that the first list is longer! That is a plus!

Basically, I need to set new mini-goals for myself. Once we are back from Hawaii, I will have a total of 3 ½ months until January 1, 2011. That is 3 ½ months of running, eating right and losing. I want to start out 2011 at less than 200 lbs. I think this will be a mental breakthrough that I desperately need because I am hovering around 210-215 and it’s killing my morale.

I think I am just human. A human that has documented my life for the world to see. That makes me pretty vulnerable. But, it has kept me honest and on board. I am committed to this blog because it helps me. And I appreciate all of the input from all of you because there is no better feeling than knowing I am not alone in this fight for health.

This week, I have planned to run 2 -2 .5 miles, twice. And, I made a grocery list for the E2 diet...cuz I am the little engine that could....or at least that's what I've been telling myself. Check out my caboose! TOOT TOOT!

Until next week..... :)

Daydreaming

This morning, I woke up from a very bad dream. The book states that I need to be “in the moment” and experience the feelings as they come—look at them—ask myself what they really are—and then move on..But I simply couldn’t. There are a lot of things that I am having anxiety about right now:

1. A major project I am working on in my spare time—of which I have none.

2. My daughter is starting yet another new school this year. I have mixed emotions about this. She struggles, and homeschooling may just be the right thing for a girl like her. But we don’t have the means (and by means, I mean patience) to do that which makes me feel guilty.

3. Our plans to go to Maui during the holidays were drastically moved up and now I am still overweight…and I will be in the photos…and that saddens me beyond belief.

4. I’m working through being deeply hurt by someone close to me.

5. My first 5k is August 28 and I can’t even run continuously for a mile yet.

So, a lot of shit is flowing. Last night, I ran so hard that I literally thought my heart would explode. And when I run, all of these thoughts get swirled up into my brain like a tsunami. They keep crashing into my brain and leave me with bits and pieces. When it comes to emotions—I’m a hoarder. I just pick them up and put them back on the shelf instead of throwing them out—(oooooh---that is my AHA! moment of the day.)

Anyways, although I slept well, I had a nightmare. It was one of those dreams that morph into your shadow and follows you all day--the remnants of this dream are all around me. And maybe that is exactly what happens.

One time, when Daisy was maybe five, she was asleep in our bed. I went to wake her up and she just smiled. She had her eyes closed and said “I’m still dreaming momma—can you see it?” I said “No...only you can see your dreams.” She reached her hand in the air, eyes still closed tightly and grabbed the air.. “Here mommy, can you see it now?” I didn’t lie to her. “No baby, I can’t see your dreams.” She then fluttered her eyes open, and was looking at the air above her head “There it goes! Bye-bye dream. Hi Mommy!” She then proceeded to tell me about her magical dream which included stars and glitter and unicorns…of course.

Today, I wish I could have done the same thing, but as adults, we don’t just leave our dreams behind. Maybe we are supposed to use them as tools to work through a problem or issue. But like most tools, they just sit around and collect dust until a major shift in the earth happens, and then it’s our time to decide what to do with the aftermath. I store them for later.

Thanks to this book, I have recognized this as a trigger. I had every intention of fighting the “obsession.” So I got up early. I showered and tried to wash off the damn dream. I got dressed, made my coffee and packed my workout clothes in my bag so that I could life weights at lunch. My intentions were good. I was going to deal with the pain of this dream with a good lunchtime workout. And then, I left the house, knowing that my bag was on my dresser and I proceeded to drive to McDonald’s.

What-The-Eff?

Even as I drove to work, I tried to remind myself that another person’s actions can’t possibly ruin the path I am on unless I let them. Just because someone wants to be a selfish asshole—it really has NOTHING to do with me—it’s their path, their mistake, their consequence. I really have nothing to do with the decisions they make. But, as I ordered my McDonalds breakfast, I almost started crying as I knew that I had succumbed to my obsessive thoughts. They won. Just like they have my entire life. THIS is emotional eating.

This is a major realization. As I talked myself out of sabotaging my work thus far, I did the opposite—made my problems disappear with the old comfort-food feeling of fullness. Although I feel worse now than I did three hours ago when I woke up. Did you hear that BRAIN? I feel like SHIT!

So why not kick myself while I’m down? I looked up Micky Deez’ nutritional value http://nutrition.mcdonalds.com/nutritionexchange/nutritionfacts.pdf -- and realized I had consumed a whopping 600 calories. That is going to ruin my entire day and digestion. Which is lame because I have a freaking digestive disease and eating the wrong foods—in this case, fake food laden with preservatives and sugar—could put me in the hospital.

Anyone who thinks food isn’t a drug is an idiot. Only the addiction to a powerful drug would have won today.

I think I am seeing my old patterns:

• I know that since I’m not going to be at goal weight for Hawaii—why even try now?

• If I can’t run a mile now, what makes me think I will be able to run it a month from now during the race?

• I know that I will most likely not cut this person from my life—although they totally deserve it—I will continue to give them more chances.

I suppose I am a little happy that even though I lost to the obsession today, I looked at it for what it was instead of bolting.

It’s 9:30 a.m. I realize that I can only take baby steps today. The rest of my day will be filled with better meal decisions. I will have a salad at lunch and an apple in the afternoon followed by a salad for dinner. I am working out today—lifting weights—which beats the hell out of binge eating frosting and cake, right? Right. Oh great…someone just brought in doughnuts—of course.

Did I eat one? Find out next week….

Maui Christmas? Nope.

So, this is supposed to be the blog where I lose weight in preparation for my trip to Maui. You know, my big goal—my weight loss treat—my 10-yr wedding anniversary—the driving factor in taking this journey into weight loss.

Now I get to tell you how it has been diverted by my ambitious husband’s desire to get an education. Pfffft... Stupid Worker’s Compensation.

Let me tell you this—be safe at work. Don’t ever get injured while on the job. You will become royally effed and it will last for YEARS people.

This trip has been set back due to the fact that the workers comp insurance company FINALLY gave us the education voucher---YAY! But his schooling starts at the end of September --- WHAAA? Therefore, our trip will most likely be at the beginning of September where my body won’t be anywhere near where I wanted it to be--BOOOOO WHAHHHHHHH!

As I type this, I realize how ridiculous I sound, bitching about visiting Maui. Not bitching that I can’t go. I am crying about my weight and the fact that I will probably be about 20 lbs from where I had intended to be during our trip.

WHAHH! Poor me. Crying about being overweight in Maui. Whateva!

Now, mind you, we have been steadily saving for this trip for over a year. We have it all planned out. But the universe doesn’t hear dates or times; it hears wants, desires and wishes—so, be careful what you wish for. Needless to say, that day when I said “it would be so cool to go to Maui on Daisy’s birthday”—is going to happen. What other 11-year old gets to goto Hawaii for her 11th birthday? Well, not ours....we are very adamant about telling her it’s a coincidence, not her present.

Sure, we could go a month later, at Christmas time—but that would be about $700 more PER PERSON. It’s not in the budget.

So whahha, I have to goto Maui early. What's good is that I am looking forward to running on the beaches, hiking in the hills and walking along the road to Hana as we take in the scenery….maybe I’ll lose weight while we are there…only time will tell!

On another note—I had one of the best weeks ever for my heart and soul. I got to perform with my girls—The Real Housewives of Rio Linda—in my hometown of San Jose at the Improv. Reading my blog this morning made me realize that it’s nights like that when God or Buddah or the Universe show you what life is all about. Family, Friends, Love and GOOD times. I got to reconnect—in person, not online—with some of my most amazing and dear friends and I will always remember that night. Time is priceless. Hawaii ain’t shit compared to time spent with the people you love.

Have a great week!

Out of the Mouth of My Babe

WASSSSUP!!
This week's blog is short and sweet-like me. My weekly update follows this entry. While going through some old copywriting materials, I came across this story that I wrote in 2006. It's a good one, so I want to share. And yes, it's a true story.

I’m a stand up comedienne. For days before a show, I prepare a set of material that will entertain people for ten minutes at a time. But there is nothing I can write that is as hilarious than the words that come out of my daughter’s mouth at the most awkward times.

The other day, we were about to purchase a few snacks from our local convenient store. As we stood in line, I noticed my six-year-old daughter’s attention was directed at the man behind the counter. There stood an attractive, Middle Eastern man, probably in his early 50’s, wearing a turban. Knowing that my daughter has just finished a lesson in school about different ethnicities, I instantly froze. What was she about to say? It was like I was about to witness an accident, but had no way of telling the man to watch out. I tried to divert my daughter’s attention to pink gum, a candy bar, anything that would stop her from whatever she was about to say…. but then it happened.

I saw my daughters’ little arm rise above her head. With her index finger pointed to her crown, she made a swirling motion as if she was preparing to spin herself around like a top – and then she spoke. Loud and clear, her little voice said “Mommy, does the guy with the funny hat speak French?”

As the folks in line behind us laughed out loud, my face turned red. My lips puckered, my heart sank. Part of me laughed hysterically at the innocence of her question, but my thoughts scrambled for an answer. Within two seconds, I came up with three solutions, as only a mom can do. First, I can tell the truth and say “No,” and this conversation will certainly take a turn for the worse. Next, I can say “Yes” and potentially silence her for at least enough time to pay for our snacks, and make a mad dash to the car, where I can then call my best friend and ask her to explain her heritage, and the reasons why this man, like her father, wears the symbolic turban. Or last, I can make eye contact with the gentleman and hope for an appreciative look from a man who surely has children, a father who would forgive her naive question and allow me off the uncomfortable hook that I am hanging on…I chose the latter.

As I peeled my embarrassed eyes off my sweet girl, I gave the man my best “Oh-I-am-so-embarrassed- kids-say-the-craziest-things” look. The man smiled and winked, as if to forgive me. I smiled and apologized for the uncomfortable encounter. But, from the corner of my eye, I could tell that my daughter was still occupied with the man’s turban. So in my softest voice, I leaned toward my daughter and muttered the words “Yes, he speaks French, now let’s pay for our things, and go home.”

I’d like to tell you that it stopped there, and it should have, but my daughter was still fully focused on the man’s head. Like a volcano about to erupt, I swear I could see the little words in her brain shuffle into a line that would inevitably produce another uncomfortable inquiry. Before she could utter another word, I gave her my keys, and told her to walk to the window and press the button to unlock mommy’s doors. She took the keys, and turned to leave, and I was finally relieved.…Or am I?

As I thanked the understanding man for my change, apologized to him for the third time, and pick up my bag, I turned to my daughter who is about five feet away from me. I motioned her to follow me out, and as we leave the store, her little voice shouts back at the man, “I like your funny hat! Bye!”

My embarrassment is equal to a show-up-naked-at-the-mall dream.

As I look back and give him yet another apology look, he shouts back at her “Thank you, Bonjour.”

It's Really Happening

In 2006, I thought I was motivated. I was going to do this.

I was.

Really.

SO-- I bought these pants....and they were my goal pants. The cute ones that I would get into when I was feeling good enough and looking thin enough to wear light beige pants without my cottage cheese thighs poking through.

I never wore them.

Until today.

SUCCESS is so sweet. TOOT TOOT.

Independence Daze

My new favorite book is pissing me off. Not because it’s boring or lame or didn’t take the garbage out when I asked (which means NOWWW)—but because it’s working. It’s a complete mind-eff word. When I get anxious and I begin to take the long walk into the kitchen where any type of sweet cake, carb or cookie can shut my brain off within 30 seconds—I now stop. I focus. I ask myself—What am I feeling? What is this?

The book clearly states that whatever feeling is seeping into my thoughts must not only be addressed, but faced, visited, felt and then I need to realize that by visiting these memories or feelings, it’s not so bad after all.

The book says that when we eat, we are avoiding the potential pain that we anticipate feeling if we were ever to visit that memory and look it in the eye. The book states that if we practice this way of thinking, if we face the feeling or memory, we will begin to see that it’s just a memory. That’s all. It’s never going to hurt me, scare me or intimidate me again. I am an adult and you know what? It wasn’t as bad as I thought.

Stupid book…all making sense and stuff. Pfffftttt….

So yeah, it’s actually working—but not without consequences. Sometimes there is anger in the feeling. Sometimes there is sadness. Sometimes there are answers in those feelings or memories. But most of the time, I find out that I have given the source too much energy. This is where I am a little stuck because I need to let it go—out of my brain, and not into my tummy, onto my thights or create another double chin.

Last week, a good friend told me, a crisis is like a landmine. One moment, you’re walking around just fine, and then BOOM, out of nowhere—a song, a smell, a memory will bring you face to face with the feelings. These landmines are so easy to silence with food. However, this book tells me to face it. Look at it. Visit it. My brain tells me to eat it. Make nachos. Buy frosting. It’s easier to eat it.

Working through things can be a little bit of an emotional overhaul. But to not visit the memories means that I am not dealing with raw emotions—and why should I when there’s white cake with white frosting? Because to not visit these memories and reconcile them within my heart would be sabotaging my health. If I am unhealthy, I am not being my true self and therefore, I am not showing up for the ones I live with or live for. That is something I am not willing to do.

Perhaps my landmine is The fourth of July. This year will mark five years for us. Five years when both careers took a sharp turn. Five years where business divided friendships. Five years of catastrophic financial struggles. Five years of watching the man I love lose it all—including his career, his backbones, his brawn and then some.

And so, instead of eating, I choose to run.

Doing this work is not easy. It’s exhausting. These feelings, these memories need to be addressed so I can move on. As I look at these five years in the eye—I am really feeling it. It hurts. Still. And that is OK. It's life. We have our limbs, our health and a roof over our head. And, it's going continue to be ok because from it, we have evolved.

So this year, I want to remember the past five years for all the positive things we have experienced. It's been five years that I have been present for my life, my hubby and our child. Five years that I have reconnected with my cousins in Arizona (and seen them four times)! Five years where we have watched our daughter blossom into a beautiful young woman. Five years where we have found the best date nights are free. Five years of learning how to be vulnerable, live honestly, communicate often and love unconditionally. For these things, I am forever grateful.

I am paraphrasing, but the book says: It happened. You can’t change it. You’re an adult. Move on.

And this is me—trying to move onto the future instead of into obesity. So far, so good.

Have a happy 4th of July!

Shirts & Suits

I feel great. I got my first pair of running shoes, and they feel like an extension of my feet. I run, I listen to music, I sweat and it all hurts. But about an hour later, I am full of this impalpable energy.

I have achieved monumental successes this week and as I look back, I am pretty proud:

• I ran 4.5 miles this week on the treadmill.

• I weighed in at 215 pounds - down 7 lbs from my last weigh in that I didn’t discuss.  : )

• I bought 2 bathing suits; both are 2 sizes smaller than last year. They are super cute and flattering and have completely changed my mind about the bathing suit skirts. They really do hide just enough!

• I got the flu and bounced back within 24 hours. I have a feeling that this was definately due to my new, healthy lifestyle.

• I kicked my caffeine habit. Albeit, I may pick that one back up again, I really, truly miss the feeling of my morning coffee spreading through my veins.

• I wore a blouse, and then a pair of jeans that have sat in my closet for the past 2-3 years….waiting for me to cut the tags off. Well, this was the week!

I am ecstatic and encouraged by these milestones. I want to thank my running partner, Crystal, for helping me thug through and for showing up to run even when she didn’t want to. We are SO going to run this 5k! Who wants to join us?

I know that in order to stay focused and achieve success, I need to continue to set small goals. So, here they are:

August 1:
Target: 199 lbs. That is a 16 lb. loss in 5 weeks. Look, I am a realist. I know it’s going to be hard, but I think I can do it. Lean proteins, veggies, cut the sugar and continue my running and weight lifting program and I really think I can do it.
Reward: Run a 5k on August 28 and celbrate my daughter's 11th birthday. This year, I won't hide behind the camera.

September 29
Target: 189 lbs.
Reward: Wear a hot outfit to celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary. Rawr!

November 19:
Target: 170 lbs. It’s not where I thought I would be by now, but it will be very close.
Ultimate Reward: Relax, swim and sunbathe in Maui. Wear another, smaller swim suit. Enjoy my time by running on the beach, hiking Haleakalā, snorkeling at Molokini Crater and Coral Gardens without being short winded or being eaten by a shark. Take photos on the beach for Christmas….

This last reward is the reason I started this journey. I can't believe it's almost here. I am totally prepared for reality to serve me a big ole’ cup of “Uhm, yeah, right” but my heart thinks that I can do this. And reading that book had been my saving grace.

Women, Food and OH MY GAWD!

Is it just me, or is the Universe shifting for everyone? I’m in a crazy-insane-omfg space and it is one in which I have the clarity of an old Buddhist monk.

For the past five months, I have written this blog. It’s my “journey” where I am showing you a side of me that many of my good friends don’t even see. And, it’s public. It’s my diary, my vulnerable self.

I had expectations that this blog, coupled with working out on a consistent basis would be enough. I thought that once I saw a few pounds gone, my brain would catch up and I'd cruise into a size 10. Once I was “thin” then I would be ok. Perhaps my occasional bouts with depression and self-loathing would disappear once I reached my new size. Well friends, the opposite has happened—but that is a good thing.

On one of my blogs, I told you all that I was going to buy and read Women, Food and God. After a few weeks went by (four to be exact), I found out through phone calls, emails and texts that a few of you actually bought the book and were reading it. For some reason, most likely attributed to The Pill, I was paralyzed with the fear of picking up this book—but now that I have it—I know why I was scared.

The book, Women, Food and God was written about me. Somehow, without meeting me, author Geneen Roth, climbed into my brain, took a bunch of pictures and notes and then jumped onto Oprah’s stage to debut her new book. Well, I want my kick-backs!

This book is cathartic to me. Finally, someone understands me (well, duh! I mean, she was in my brain). I am on page 40, and so far, here are my AHA! moments:

Page 9.

The whole page. This isn’t about my mom, but everyone. I always felt, and sometimes still feel that my big personality and energy is too much. Comedy has been a perfect outlet for me, but being a child with this big ole energy bubble really got on people’s nerves. No one cared about the eight year old who interrupted adult conversations to do her best impression of Steve Martin. (Now, people pay me for it…mu ha ha ha…)

Page 10.

“The group (sic) can relate to the belief that if they keep themselves wounded and damaged, they will be loved.”

Me: WHOA. I relate to this because it’s how I once was. I celebrate the fact that I am not that drama queen anymore. My husband and friends love and accept me for who I am today, not for the drama I use to bathe in. What I learned is that a spouse and friends can only hear your life story so many times. It doesn’t endear them to you—quite the opposite—you keep talking about your shit and you’re going to be labeled a complainer, a cry baby, a victim and no one will want to be around that. Believe me—I know! There is a time and a place to discuss your woes….and then you need to realize that you can’t change it, you’re an adult, and you need to move on and be the amazing person you were meant to be. Let’s move on.

Page 29.

“As long as you are striving and pushing and trying hard to do something that can never be done, you know who you are: someone with a weight problem who is working hard to be thin. You didn’t have to feel lost or helpless because you always have a goal and that goal can never be reached.”

Me: Gulp. Uh huh. Yep, this is how I have been feeling with this blog. I know myself well enough to know that I probably won’t follow through with this project because I never follow through with anything. I started this blog and weight loss goal to – for once in my life – follow through, be accountable and succeed. So far, I am on the right track, but reading this quote made me feel that at least I am not alone in this self depreciation pattern. And, I want to break it.

Page 37.

“Compulsive eating is basically a refusal to be fully alive. No matter what we weigh, those of us who are compulsive eaters have anorexia of the soul.”

Me: HEY-O! Ok, so I think this statement can be true with any addicts. Some use drugs, alcohol, shopping and I use eating. I am SO a compulsive eater. At one point, about five years ago, I believe that my soul was anorexic. At 260 pounds, it was easy to stuff memories, feelings, loneliness and even boredom way back down into my stomach with a piece of white cake with white frosting from Safeway. That $1.99 delight may have added 700 calories to my day, but it made those “bad thoughts” disappear.

I still struggle. If I was an alcoholic, I would have enough 30-day chips to make an outfit. BUT—one thing I can say for sure—I am on the right road. My gym membership, my attitude, my willingness to ask my doctor if I am crazy, my friendships, my boundaries, my blog—all of these things are directly in line with the message I am receiving from this book. It’s like someone is giving me a pat on the back…(oh, and while you’re there—feel my back—the whole thing! Look Ma—no more back fat! HOLLA!)

For once in my life, I don’t feel like I am being something or someone I am not. I am present. I have clarity. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. This is a feeling that is better than good, it’s spiritual.

I told a dear friend of mine today that with the support system I have in place, I feel grounded, and with the strength I get from those close to me, I can move mountains. We are on the path to finding our authentic selves. This strength is what I call God—and THAT MESSAGE IS IN THIS BOOK TOO! HOLY SHIT this is Mind-Blowing.

I am so excited to continue to read. Stay tuned for next week. And if you’re following this—thank you. You are part of the reason I am on track.

I love you.

No Pill. No Problems.

It was the Pill.

I am AMAZED at the way it affected me. I thought I was going crazy. So now, I'm just back to my normal-crazy self.

I have a confession: I haven't bought the book Women, Food and God. But my friends are reading it and telling me that it's really good. I do plan on buying it. I really can't tell you what my block is on this one, I just can't do it.

I am back at the gym. I missed a whole week. We were active with other things, but no good sweat sessions. The last two days have been GREAT workouts mixed with sore muscles and good nights of sleep.

My June 1 photo set to be taken around June 15th, when I haven't eaten ice cream and bread all week. Weight is down a pound and my smile, energy and cramps are back. I never thought I would say this, but "Hey Cramps--glad to have ya back old buddy."

I joined Twitter, so now I'm twatting...right? It's weird. I guess if you want to follow me, you can add me at @ComedianChick.

I don't have much more. Count down to Hawaii is about 5 1/2 months...wow!

Headcase

My funk has not lifted. In fact, it’s in full force, engulfing me with severe PMS symptoms, cravings, anxiety, mood swings and spontaneous crying. On Friday, it interrupted me during a show, on stage, performing for 100 paying customers, this little voice saying “you’re not funny”— which is weird because I totally am.

Monday, while home alone for a few sacred hours, it paralyzed me with tears and insecurity until I called my sister for help. She stayed until my husband got home.

I am convinced that the birth control I am taking has suffocated my happiness at a time when I should be soaring, looking forward to my future, exploring comedy stages in other cities, increasing my run times and planning our much deserved trip to Hawaii.

I haven’t been on the Pill in over 16 years. There is a reason for this. First, when I was younger, it messed with my head (shocking). So why would I try again? Well it’s simple. I want to know why we haven’t been able to conceive a baby in the past 10 years. The Pill was the first step in “resetting” my cycle. It’s not that I long for another child every day, but sometimes I do, and I want to know why I don’t have the choice. Although we would welcome any unexpected pregnancy, we have just kind of assumed a “secondary infertility” life. This life can be lonely at times and the insurmountable guilt I feel for wanting one more of what I already have can be haunting.

This damn Pill, I’m convinced, has sucked every ability for me to be positive and has single handily thrown my optimism about life, love and babies into a vat of despair.

So, I’m going off the Pill. And I hope this is the cause of the funk that I have been in. It very possibly could be just part of my weight loss journey though, and if that's the case, then I completely understand why people gain their weight back after shows like The Biggest Loser or why, after enduring the pain of gastric bypass, some gain all the weight back and then some.

There is a reason why people are overweight, and if we don't get our head right, then how can the cycle end?

Hopefully it's just the Pill and once it leaves my system, I will resume my workouts, comedy, keeping in touch with family and friends and writing an uplifting blog again soon. For now, I gotta work on my head.

Oh, and now that I’ve let you in on our infertility issues, I advise you to please read this article. Education is key. Don’t feel sorry for me, it’s just a fact of life. And if this is my biggest problem in life, well then compared to people living in a third world country, family members riddled with disease, losing the love of your life, not being able to conceive ever or spontaneously combusting--I have a pretty good life.

Impossible or I’m Possible?

My last session with my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer, M, ended last week. I had my dental work done and can’t afford to retain her services for at least the next two months, so I am officially on my own. I have 12 strength building workout routines written down, and a bottle of water.

I feel sad.

I am nervous and my ego is telling me that I will fail. To make it more interesting, my wonderful husband has decided that he wants to go to Hawaii NEXT MONTH. It’s cheaper, it’s beautiful and we need a break. We deserve a break. BUT, I want to be fit on the beach, and I am far from that. So, we will see.

In an effort to silence the voices in my head, I went shopping over the weekend and I was saddened to see that I couldn’t find very many things. I am in between sizes right now, and I found out that shopping gives me anxiety. Like, “YAY—these fit, but I should get them bigger in case I gain my weight, right?” I did find several pairs of pants at Old Navy (size 16….which is like a 12 at Lane Bryant—haha.) But, Old Navy has weird pants…they are comfy, but not really work appropriate. I feel like a modern hippie….which is totally me on the weekends, but I can’t wear linen drawstring pants and Smocked Crinkle-Gauze Tops at work…so, why bother? I’d rather save the money and wear my baggy clothes until I am a firm 14. Good goal to write down.

Here is the problem—something in my body is “off.” I am tired all the time, I am craving sweets, I am on the pill, but pretty much skipped my period and my digestion is way off which I have to monitor closely because I have Diverticular Disease (don't google it--you'll be sorry). Before you ask me if I am prego—I am not. In fact, I am pretty sure we can’t have any more children. So, maybe I am in a funk, or maybe I am sabotaging my workouts/progress. All I know for sure is that I have been having crazy dreams and body changes for two weeks now, for no apparent reason. So, I am going to the doctor to figure that shit out in June. And until then, I refuse to get fill my prescription for that cholesterol medicine.

Could this be a little depression? I don’t know. But until I do, I will try my hardest to tread the waters of life, reason with my anxiety and sweat at the gym. It’s all I can do until this “fog” has lifted. (Wow--how EMO do I sound...this is so NOT me!)

Oh, and listening to Band of Horses while I write this doesn’t help.

This Woman, High Cholesterol, Food and God

First, let me just say that I am so glad that I watched the Oprah episode that featured Geneen Roth, author of Women, Food and God. Watching this show unwittingly prepared me for my doctor's appointment today.

Today was my three month follow up with my doc to test my cholesterol. You can read about my first test here. So, here is how my hard work at the gym and my eating right--for the most part--hasn't paid off:

2/11/2010                              5/11/2010

Cholesterol:       222         229    (should be under 200)
Triglycerides:    127         172     (should be under 150)
HDL (GOOD):    51           60     (should be over 50, above 60 is best)
LDL (BAD):      148         134     (Needs to be under 100)

The fact that I significatly raised my HDL and lowered my LDL is a good thing. However, the ultimate number is the three-digit one, and it went up. I will thank my father for this. It's looking as though I may have high cholesterol, which is hereditary on his side. While I am thanking his side of the family, I'd like to give a shot out to them for anxiety attacks, depression, migraines, colon cancer, diverticulitis, bad gall bladders, digestive disorders and bad knees too----ahhh, my family.

As of whenever I fill my prescription, I am going to be put on meds and seen in another three months.

Hey, it could be worse. 

My little sis has battled high cholesterol for years (same dad), and she's a health nut. So, together, we will try to get this monster under control before it blocks our heart and kills us.

It totally could be worse. 

Like the heart/chest pain that I have been having for the past three weeks and haven't said anything about....yeah...that's a whole nutha blog. It will most likely start in June after I see another doctor.

It could be worse. 

Like being diagnosed with the "C" word.

It could be worse.  

Like, passing away due to an unhealthy lifestyle that I could have prevented because 

I didn't do the work to get my mind/body right.

Even though my family has a history of failing body parts, they also have a history of being some of the bravest, hardest-working, loving and funny people I have ever known and I wouldn't trade them for the world...unless it was Avatar, cuz that is soooo cool......

Anyways, it came as no surprise that the Oprah episode featuring the author of Women, Food and God magically appeared on my DVR last night. Visit the link and then come back and read on. I'll wait. Go ahead, I'll be right here........


That was pretty cool, huh? I am going to read this book and I am going to do the work. I am going to learn about myself because if I don't, I am going to continue to eat horribly just to fill that void. I have come too far, changed my life in too many ways to give up now. But I'll vulnerable here-- I am scared to death. Body aches and pains scare me. A tummy ache catapults my brain into thinking horrible thoughts about the colon cancer that I am sure exists. A headache makes me think of my cousin and how I too, will surely be having a stroke within 24 hours. This chest pain has me convinced that I am on the verge of a heart attack. And all I want to do is eat a big ole' tub of vanilla frosting because if I'm gonna go out--that is the way I wanna go.

But I won't. 

I won't stop worrying. 

 But I WILL start working on the brain part--my racing thoughts/anxiety. 

I won't eat frosting.  

Because I have worked TOO hard to send myself into that depression. 

I won't stop working out. 

I like how I feel and I like the way my body moves now. 

(Shhhh, don't tell anyone, but secretly, I want to run a 5k with Erika in the fall.)

I have one body and one mind and I am going to get the most out of them. So, I would like to invite you to join me. Read this book with me. Let's do the work. Let's cry together. Let's cope together. Let's end this battle once and for all. Who's in? I'm getting the book tomorrow. Are you? Let me know!

Bite Me

So, should I discuss the good news or the bad news first?

Good News: 
I have been looking forward to the Body Fit Challenge at my gym. It's a 12 week group training and nutrition plan. I have saved up the $229 fee and was looking forward to entering the challenge today and beginning the program next week. This grueling program includes daily meal plans--which seem to be my biggest obstacle--and two, one-hour sessions with my trainer, per week. Oh, and the 'biggest loser' gets $500. I was SO excited.

Bad News:
I got a tooth ache yesterday. More like a tooth smell. I have bad teeth, "hereditary deep grooves" to be exact. No one knew this growing up, and my mom took us every six months to have our teeth cleaned. Other than taking the liberty to pop a zit on my nose once, our dentist was pretty normal. (No, I am NOT joking, and it was a blackhead that looked big to him because he was wearing weird magnifying glasses...and it hurt). But, he was old-school, and I don't think that he knew that sealing our teeth as children would have prevented the ultimate thousands of dollars in dental bills that I will be enduring. Oh yeah, Thousands.

Of course, I knew my teeth were acting up. I have had two root canals and I have four crowns that were put on wrong--they are too big--over ten years ago. One crown started leaking this week--GROSS. So, I went to my dentist. He reminded me that it had been two years since I last saw him. Yeah, I am THAT patient. The one who only goes to the dentist when there is a problem. I loathe going to the dentist. Gee, I can't imagine why....

Long-story-short:
After the initial exam and x-rays, I have about $8,000 worth of work that needs to be done. Yeah--Four procedures at $2000 each = $8,000 -- and NO GRILLS to show off.

PRO:
Thank Goodness for insurance and a dentist I trust! (Sure, I could probably find a cheaper dentist, but I trust this one. My kid loves him. Yes, 10-yrs old and she LOVES going to the mutha-effing DENTIST people--He is a good man.)

CON:
Dental insurance sucks--and mine only covers $1500 PER YEAR. So, I either take my chances and get one procedure per year for the next four years--and hope nothing major goes wrong. OR, I come up with $7500 this year. I think you see where I'm headed.

SO:
The first $500 is due next Thursday when I will sit in the big chair and wait for him to replace one crown and a filling and deep clean the surrounding gums. I have $229 and will have the rest by then, but seriously....I'm a little sad.

SETBACK:
Needless to say, I can't sign up for the Body Fit Challenge THIS TIME.

Staying Positive!
I was a little upset after my appointment. My German-as-a-first-language trainer was so excited to see me. We have been training for this and she had the paperwork all ready. I had to flake. And, I am not ok with being a flake. So, I was bummed, ran 2 miles in 30 minutes (holllla!) and then we discussed plan B.

I have learned SO much from my trainer, M. She understands my predicament and I am grateful for that. I have 12 weeks worth of strength training exercises and after *cough, cough* years of Weight Watchers, I KNOW how to eat right. This is just a test. It's my own challenge until I can afford to sign up for the next one. And I will. And seriously, if THIS is the only thing going "wrong" in my life right now, well then I am pretty lucky.

I didn't realize the clarity that comes with getting in shape. I actually have coping skills that I know I didn't have five years ago...This is my new life and I love it.

Although I was a little down and out today, my decision to move forward and stay focused was reinforced tonight as I picked up my daughter from the kids' gym. We walked through the doors into the main gym and she stopped and inhaled deeply. Then she looked at me and said "Mommy, I love the smell of the gym!" Me too kiddo, me too.

"Have You Lost Weight?" Uhm, YES!!!

I have to make this short because I am on my way to the gym.

Big YAY ME moments this week!

1. I got into my outfit for these "during" photos and realized that my shirt is too big-- YAY!


So, I have changed tank tops, and that is going to show you all the rolls and wrinkles and hopefully keep me motivated because there is a new t-shirt that I have that I can't wait to show you! (Thanks to Val!)

2. THREE PEOPLE asked me if I have lost weight--and I didn't get a hair cut or color this week, so I know they were sincere!! (it's about effing time-lol)


I am still at 216, but feeling better than ever. My boobs and feet are shrinking and although I think that is hilarious, a certain someone in my life is starting to get a sad face.

I am still not ready to buy new clothes yet....

Why I am doing this...

Because this time, 4 years ago, I couldn't even hide those other chins. Now, at least I can...but I look better. I feel better. And let this be a reminder to myself, as I type this, that YES I can do it , and YES it will be even better than I ever imagined.

The April 2006 photo shows a sad, miserable, lonely and lost person. I was going through what I thought was one of the worst times of my life. I had no idea that this would be just the beginning....

April 2006
 

This girl, April 2010, can do anything. She's been through hell and back and now it's her time to shine....

Photo by Isabel Ginsberg Photography

Guess Who Lost 5 lbs? ME!

I am SO excited!

Last week, I maintained my workouts, alone, on the big, scary main gym floor. I stuck to my guns and I did what I set out to do. Then, as the weekend approached, I weighed myself.

Now, a few weeks ago, our scale let us know that it needed new batteries. Having lost only 5 lbs in 2 months after this "new way of life," I ignored it and just decided that I would simply not weigh in until May 1.

But, my hubby and I were talking about it and he thought that he had noticed something different. I swore to him that "No, I am still at 221." He said that wasn’t possible. We made an adult-themed wager to prove who was right, and walked into the garage where the scale is.

Then, a wave of panic hit me. What if I gained? OMG, I will totally die right now BUT I’d win bet....so, I got on the scale and sucked in my belly….because that totally matters.

I looked at the scale, and there it was, like a toddler looking up at me, asking for a hug—216! Goodbye 224!!

OMG! YAY!

HOLLA! GO ME!

I Lost the bet, but kinda won anyways, right?

So, I guess my trainer is right. More weights. Less Cardio. Less Calories. I am SO looking forward to being in ONEderland…that's where the rest of the people who weigh under 200 lbs reside. I don’t want to look like a supermodel, I want to lose one..(get it? I want to lose 80 lbs)....Actually, I just want to walk into Old Navy or Gap and buy a pair of jeans, oh, and rock a bathing suit in December!

By the way, adult-themed wagers are a nice reward, expecially when you're feeling thinner…is this TMI?

Avoiding the Void

 
So, I met with my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer last Wednesday. You can read all about it here. She left me, once again, with a list of lonely exercises that I must do on my own, on that big, scary gym floor. Thursday, I didn’t go. Friday, my friends were in town, I didn’t go. And Saturday, I woke up in a bad mood. Like, a really bad mood. I was pissed at the world. I made my coffee, I tried to avoid my family, and I just wanted to curl in a ball and cry…oh, and eat.

After my coffee, it was about 9:30 am and I had already eaten breakfast, so I wasn’t really hungry….but I found myself wandering into the kitchen. I was looking for nothing and anything—sweet. But, I didn’t find it…instead, I did something I never thought I would ever do...I went into my room, put on my gym clothes and I headed out to the gym.

I didn’t really “want” to go. I wanted frosting. I wanted a Twix bar, or pancakes. I wanted to be emotional. I wanted to cry. I was spiraling for no reason other than a little PMS.

I got to the gym and hopped on the elliptical machine. I set the course for 30 minutes, thinking I would get in a mile and a half…..but anger is a weird thing. I pushed myself to hit almost 3 miles. That’s a mile every 10 minutes. I was BLOWN AWAY, I was sweating, and I was smiling. It gave me the boost I needed in order to do the exercises that my trainer had given me earlier….alone…on the big, scary gym floor—where I didn’t even have a chance to feel insecure. That was a great feeling. My momentum distracted me to the point where I didn’t even notice the 10 lb weight on the back of the crunch machine.

My workout was hard. It was tough. I was a sweaty mess and I was overwhelmed with emotions. I finished my workout and went to my car. I looked at myself in the mirror and teared up. I did it. And it’s not just the workout that I did. I found a way to fill that void. That void that usually goes away, temporarily, after I eat. I can fill that “feeling” with exercise. Like WHOA. Talk about an AHA moment…….

I am super-duper stoked. And as I shared my story with my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer, she smiled and said “that’s great, now we can put an extra 10 lbs on the crunch machine! Cool.”

Did I mention she is perfect for me?

Being Funny Is No Excuse

I am proud to say that YES, I did workout, alone, on the main floor of the gym last week, and it felt GOOD. No, it felt GREAT! I broke a sweat, saw one person smile at me, encouraging or envious, I am not sure, but they saw that I was literally working my ass off. I didn’t get my special treat of the muscle man in tights, but I did it and it was fun. I was totally looking forward to the next time because, you know, I had to do it twice without my trainer. Twice. But I didn’t.

And yesterday, I had to face my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer and tell her that “YAY I DID IT ONCE…but there was a reason I couldn’t make it the rest of the week and weekend..just wait till you hear this! I had two comedy shows, family in town, a tired Monday and before I knew it—it was too late for me to get in another workout…so SURRY!”

I could see it in her eyes. It was no excuse. She looked me over and said nothing. I hate silence, so instead of accepting the “we both know I could have found time” stillness, I dug myself into the hole of all holes…

“……Look! I’ve been busy with Comedy-yay-comedy, my passion, my dream. You see, when I met you, I had just become part of The Real Housewives of Rio Linda (RHRL) and we got a few big shows, a write up in the Sac News and Review, an interview on Good Day Sacramento, and then two sold out shows…."

“I don’t have a T.V.”

WHHAAAAT—No TV???

"....Well, then, News10 did an interview with us and it gained a lot of attention because Rush Limbaugh picked it up and told the story on his show….then News10 told everyone about us on the RUSH show—I mean, he even put us on his homepage!”

“Who is Rush Limbaugh?”

DOH!

“Uhm, well, he is a crazy political guy who has a national radio show—we went National for a day…omg! THEN, we sold out a show in Modesto and then we came home and had a great show at Laughs Unlimited—I made $14---did you hear that? $14 Biyatch! THEEEEN—I GOT TO OPEN FOR GALLAGHER—I mean, he was like, totally famous in the 80s and 90s.”

“Who is Gallagher?”

GRRR......

“…..THEN, We were put on the front page of FunnyorDie.com where we have had over 200 hits—all ”FUNNY” in one day!

“What is Funny or Die?” 

*Sigh*

"I got hired to perform at the Susan G Komen race and I have an interview on KCRA tomorrow, but you prolly won’t see it….humffff. “

“Oh, I am walking in that race!”

UHG! Of course you are.

"So all of these reasons are why I haven’t worked out or taken my monthly picture."

“Didn’t you tell me you have a gym at work?”

OUCH. Busted. Moted. Face. Burn.

Final Score:
German-as-a-first-language personal trainer: 1 
Comedienne: 0

We worked out for the first time since last Thursday. It was a tough one. A ½ hour on the elliptical and then ½ hour of intense weight lifting. And today I am SORE. And I have to workout 2 more times, by myself, on the big, scary main floor, before I see her next Monday.

So, while my comedy life soars and I enjoy the wave I am riding, I have fallen off the track and my trainer could care less because she isn’t Amercian, she doesn’t care about fame, I can't charm or WOW her, she doesn't care about that stuff....she wants to get me in shape and I pay her for that. All of these reasons and more make her perfect for me.

The moral of yesterday’s story is that even if I am performing comedy every single night—I have a gym at work, including a walking course, and five flights of stairs. I have no excuses.

Penny for My Thoughts

The last two days’ workouts have made my body go “SAY Whhhhhat?” and I like that. It’s a nice distraction from the seemingly racing thoughts that dance inside my head like a bad play.

I’m trying to wrap my brain around a lot of things this week. Both good news and bad news. Some issues I am celebrating—like the modification of our loan with B of A and the amazing shows I am performing with The Real (funny) Housewives of Rio Linda! Some things I am trying to resolve—like the constant issues we continue to face with Workers Compensation—a two year battle that we just can’t seem to win. Some thoughts are just a simple realization of how much our lives have really changed in the past 5 years. Other things are deeper (that's what she said) and I don't know why they enter my head at all.

I guess working out so hard and embracing this new way of life has drummed up some deep-rooted feelings? I am a scatter-brain. Has this happened to any of you? I would like to know.

Lucky for me, on Monday, I didn’t have time for thinking. Instead of the hour-long expensive sessions with my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer, M., this week I began half-hour sessions. Now, normally M is adorable and fun and lets me rest during our one-hour long sessions. However, when we need to fit in 6-10 intense strength training exercises in 30 minutes, it’s like a whole new person shows up. She becomes a workout Nazi Czar.

There is no room for error.
There is no rest for the weak.
There is no goofing around - boooo!
There is a LOT of sweat -YAY!

My new routine ensures that although I get to continue my beloved Hip-Hop class, which just about broke my kneecaps this week, I am required to duplicate these strength exercises two additional times per week, on my own.

This poses a problem. I am a big girl. I am not only big, but I am super-emotional with all of these thoughts racing through my head. So I am a fat, emotional girl working out and working through it on the main gym floor. The main floor is already scary and intimidating enough. Being surrounded by hot, young twenty-somethings wearing next-to-nothing makes me a tad bit insecure. Sure, I want to look like that …but the mirrors—oh the mirrors—quickly remind me that I am SO FAR away from my goal and I start to get anxious. These insecurities create a breeding ground for my self loathing.

Working alongside of a trainer gives me an “out.” It’s an advertisement to the spandex-clad crew that although I may be big, I am with a trainer, sooooo...free pass for me! But tonight, I must work that floor alone. And I am nervous. But once again, this weekly, delicate, vulnerable posts to all of you, will help me persevere…so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

On the light side, I do find humor to be a great coping mechanism in these times of need. Last night, something make me happy, and I will look forward to it like a small slice of white chocolate cake with white frosting. As we were getting prepared to leave the gym, I looked over to the big, scary main floor and saw a very big muscle man wearing a short t-shirt and skin-tight, light grey leggings. They were basically see-through. These were not your typical skinny man-pants. He literally looked like he must have ran out of laundry and as he was searching for shorts perhaps, he yelled out to his lady “honey, do you have any leggings I can wear?” The three of us noticed him at the same time, and could barely contain our laughter. (This is another reason I love the gym….and why I leave my phone/camera at home. I would be SO temped to just take pictures every day).

So, wish me luck tonight. I’ll be the fat girl, sweating for a reason, eager to be healthy and in a bathing suit by November, struggling to rectify the things that pop into my head and trying to just focus while laughing at your silly spandex.

Worth the Weight...

This week was a lot better than last. But still pretty rough. Remember when I was all excited that I lost a total of 9 inches?  Well, after my appointment with my German-as-a-first-language personal trainer, that my friends, is not the case. I hesitate to post my numbers yet as I am embarrassed. I am embarrassed that I have let myself go. I am also embarrassed that after 8 weeks at the gym, I have only lost a total of 5 lbs.

If it weren't for Maui, I think this would be the week I give up completely. During my last workout with my trainer, I almost cried when she took my measurements, BMI and weight. She noticed that I was upset and then proceeded to explain (in fat-girl terms) what I am doing wrong.

1. Too much cardio, not enough weights.
2. Not counting and journaling my calories...and probably not staying within my range.

After researching her words of wisdom because I simply do not trust anyone...I found out that she is right. There is a GREAT article about this here.

So, I signed up for another 6 weeks. These are intense sessions as we move from one hour weights to 1/2 hour cardio and 1/2 hour weight training. I will also be adding two additional days of weight training to my regiment. And after that, I will sign up for my first Body Fit Challenge.

I am nervous, anxious, unmotivated and scared. There. I said it. I am overwhelmed with emotions and angry that my journey isn't happening as fast as I wanted it to. However, I am sticking to it and I will continue because once again, this blog makes me honest.

Oh, and thanks to a dear friend, Erika, who wrote about crying during a recent run—I don't feel alone. Thank you and I love you girl. Watching you drop the weight and seeing you transform has been a huge inspiration to me and I am so proud of you. I look forward to the day we can run a 5k together. It will be worth the weight.

A Bad Week?

I am having a bad week. Just, everything is “off.”

Monday, I was excited to go to the gym…but my brain decided it would be a great day to have a maj-ah migraine. They run in my family, and although I don’t have them as bad or often as I did as a kid—when they hit, it’s like my head is the perfect pitch and a Louisville slugger just can’t resist—WHAM! Home run….goodnight. So, I missed the gym.

Tuesday, my hip-hop class was cancelled. And, instead, they replaced my teachers with two Sacramento Kings Cheerleaders…yeah, that’s what I want. Two fake-tan Barbie dolls trying to teach my fat ass about dancing…Eff that! So, I missed the gym. But, the three of us did take a 1-mile walk through the park…which was lovely….until half way through I noticed that the back of my left heel was in pain. Looking down, I see a huge blister and blood. Nice. I still finished my walk, so IN YOUR FACE BLISTER.

As we got home and got our nightly chores, dinner, homework, etc. done, I crashed out on the couch before I could take a shower. ”No problem” I thought, “I’ll just take one in the morning”…right? Wrong.

Wednesday kicked my ass before my alarm even went off—oh wait, it never went off. I literally woke up to my loving hubby shouting “Honey! Wake up! It’s 6:30!!” – Which means I was going to be late. I didn’t shower. Ew. I brushed my fangs, threw my clothes on and ran out the door. I did get to work on time! But, then two hours later, I realized that I had my black shirt on backwards. So, I turned it around…only to advertise my white deodorant. By the way, Teen Spirit, you do NOT dry clear….pffffft!

A lot more went wrong yesterday, but in order to not indict myself (for what I may or may not have done to the car that parked so close to me that I had to enter my car from the passenger side where my legs became stuck between the steering wheel and my chin)…. I will just leave it at that…it was a bad day.

I got home and immediately curled up on my husbands lap and collapsed….and you know what my loving, supportive, handsome man said after he laughed his ass off after I narrated the misfortunes of my day? “So, I take it you’re not going to the gym again? Did you hit that wall? Are you gonna quit the gym now?” – OH. NO. HE. DIIIIII-DN’T.

I was shocked. Not that he said it. That he was SO RIGHT….and with that comment, I got a band-aid for my blister, put on my shoes, and we went to the mutha-luvin gym.

Then, I got home, ate dinner and met up with some comedy chicks that I adore. And, I got booked at the Punchline for next month…So EFF YOU Wednesday!! I won.

And that’s it this week. What did I learn? When life gets tough, and things get in the way, and pain makes you want to stop ---don’t. That is what the old Me use to do. The old Me would have eaten a tub of frosting and said “I deserve this.” The old Me would have called in sick the next day. The old Me would have hit that wall and ended up cancelling my gym membership. The old Me would have blamed it all on anything but Me.

I like the new Me. Here is my mantra this week.....

What I am learning is that it's ok to be vulnerable.

What I need to do when I hit that wall is push my way through it.

What I love is making people laugh.

What I want is a nice bathing suit in November...in Maui.

What I deserve is to be healthy.

Even if I can't do take it one day at a time...it's ok to take it a minute at a time. Bad week or not, I pushed through and I am feeling GREAT about my achievements--on and off the scale. We ALL have those bad days and weeks. When they rear their ugly head--kick their ass. I did, and it feels great. I bet I won't see Wednesday for at LEAST another week....lol!

Here is a tribute to kicking this week's ass.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk-1mla0LeU

Lost 1 lb and The Old Me!

I lost 1 lb. Yay? Well, I am most likely NOT going to reach my mini goal of being under 200 lbs by April 1, however, I am still plugging away at this new lifestyle. I have arm muscles, more energy than ever before and a positive outlook on my health for the future.

The Real (Funny) Housewives of Rio Linda are getting more press than I ever imagined--which is GREAT. But, seeing my body in pictures and on TV is unsettling at best, and it's encouraging me to keep up the hard work.

In order to motivate myself, I decided to post an old picture and show you all a full body shot of me at my heaviest. I need to do this so that I can continue to remind myself of why I am dancing, swimming, jiggling and sweating every night.

So, I went to my online photo account and guess what I found? Nothing. I have literally hid behind the camera for years. However, after combing through hundreds of photos of good times with old friends and family celebrations, I did inevitably find one.

 

THEN

<<  YIKES! My size 24 jeans.

(March 2006)

I was REALLY miserable back then. My life was in chaos. I was a mess....and not in the hot way. I was not taking care of myself, my priorities were far from being in order, I was on 100mg of Zolaft per day, and my husband had just gotten into a huge accident.

Today, I consider this picture a blessing. It has opened my heart to see the path I was on, and it wasn't pretty. I am so lucky to have woken up from this slumber in time to reverse my lifestyle. I don't even recognize this person anymore. I don't resemble her physically or emotionally. That is an NSV (Non-Scale Victory!)

 

NOW

My (loose) size 16 jeans. >>

(March 2010)

Thank you Isabel Ginsberg Photography!

I actually LIKE this picture. It's me, today! My curves are real, and fading. My smile is bright, my face is much thinner. I am internally happy and externally silly.

As I compare the two pictures, I realize that I am making changes that will allow me to be alive for a lot longer than the road I was once on. This is the greatest feeling in the world...much better than a tub of vanilla frosting.

Have a great week everyone!

Driving Miss Daisy

I love the conversations I have with Daisy while we drive home from the gym. Usually, we are both full of adrenaline and hyper and so we sing, make farting noises or talk about how much we can’t wait to goto the mall and buy glittery things.



But sometimes, we talk about serious stuff.



Monday night was no exception. The topic was reincarnation—because that is what inquiring ten-year old minds want to know—right? Anyways, as we discussed the possibility of re-embodiment, we ended up with one of the most hilarious conversations that I have ever had with anyone. It went a little something like this:



Daisy: What is reincarnation?

Mom: Some people believe that when you die, your soul goes into another living person, or animal.



Daisy: I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone else. I think I have always been in your tummy or Daddy’s tummy.



Mom: Ahhh, that’s sweet. You know, you were never technically in daddy’s tummy….



WHOOPS! Here is one of those times where I am talking and not thinking. (FYI--I do talk casually to my daughter about these things. Although she is well aware of the anatomically correct names for body parts, in our home we use real-life words. She’s being raised by a Marine and a Comedienne –what do you expect?)



Daisy: I wasn’t? Well, where was I?



Mom: uhm…you were a sperm, in his balls.



Daisy: EWWWWW!! HAHAHAHA!! EWWWW!!!



Mom: LOL



And then there was silence, followed by a long, drawn out......



Daisy: Sooooooooooooooooooooo….



Mom: (uh-oh, here comes the birds and bees conversation….again)



Daisy: So I was a sperm in dad’s balls….HAHAHAHA



Mom: Yes, along with a million others…but you made it into my tummy!



Daisy: So daddy put me in your tummy?



Mom: Uh, Yeah. (sigh).



It’s not that I wasn’t prepared for the birds and bees conversation, it just reminded me of the first conversation we had when she was about 6, and I simply told her that daddy has seeds that he puts in mommy’s tummy and then a baby grows…Daisy proceeded to squeal “OOOH!! Daddy has seeds? I love (sunflower) seeds, did you eat them?”….and I replied, “Only on anniversaries….” I digress.



Daisy is quiet. I can almost hear the wheels spinning in her head like a cracked-out hamster running on a wheel. Then she says:



Daisy: hmmmmmm….I wonder what I looked like.



Mom: BAHAHAHAH—what you looked like? Like what you were wearing?



Daisy: Yeah! I bet I was wearing a pink bow and a ponytail, so my hair didn’t get messed up.



Mom: BAHAHAHAHH



Daisy: ……and I probably had my peace sign necklace on. And then I was like, “I’m OUTTA here!!”



Mom: LMAO



Daisy: (laughing) what mom?



Mom: Do you know what sperm looks like?



Daisy: no, what?



Mom: It looks like a tadpole. You aren’t wearing any clothes; you’re just a tadpole with a tail, and no arms.



Daisy: OH!



Knowing now that she is entertaining me, my little passenger sits up straight in her seat, puts her arms to the side and squirms like, well, a sperm…and says: “I bet I was all, ‘I wish I had arms!’ ”



Mom: OMFG, LMAOOOOO with tears....



Daisy: that’s funny, huh mom?



Mom: Uh, yeah. Like, I-might-use-it-on-stage-this-week-funny.



Daisy: I wish I could say it on stage.



Mom: You totally can. Let me know when and where and I will let you!



Daisy: How would I start it?



Mom: Uh, maybe by saying, hi I’m Daisy and I’m 10 years old----



Daisy: Interrupts me---Oh, I know…Hi I’m Daisy and I’m 10 years old which means a little more than ten years ago I was in my daddy’s balls.



Mom: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO



It. Doesn’t. End. There.



Last night, I said her joke on stage. It killed. And then when I got home, and told Rich about it, my darling husband informed me that Daisy had continued the conversation with him while they drove home from the gym….it went something like this:



Daisy: Did mommy tell you about my joke?



Dad: Yes. Do you want to tell it to me?



Daisy: No, I’m not going to tell you the joke, but it was about me being a sperm.



Dad: _______(insert cricket noise here)_______



Daisy: Yeah. I was thinking about what I looked like. I probably had my ponytail, pink bow and my necklace. But, I probably also had my locket with a picture of you two, my backpack…..and fins…so I could be the fastest. Here is a picture:

ROTFLMAO!



Ahhhhhh, Daisy, our sweet girl…yes, you were the fastest, and the cutest, and the smartest and I am so glad you were the one that made it into our lives.

Day 2 of Week 6 – I Won’t Give Up

I started my journey on January 25, 2010 and thought that I would drop major weight by now. But, I haven’t. This knowledge is not power. It makes my classes harder. It makes my workouts emotional. It makes me think that I bit off way more than I can chew…ooohh…chewing…remember Charleston Chew Bars? YUMMY—I digress. But so you SEE what it does? It makes me think about eating more bad stuff and I find myself falling prey to oh-so-familiar “I don’t give a crap” attitude.

When I started this project, I set some ground rules. I would blog and weigh in weekly. I would take measurements and post pictures monthly. No matter what.

Yesterday was March 1. I had to weigh in, take measurements and post a photo...and I was NOT looking forward to it. All day, I was filled with a bit of anxiety. My family had gotten together the night before and indulged in pizza, bread sticks, wings and chocolate silk pie….WHAT? Needless to say, I was NOT feeling well. In fact, I was pretty nauseous all day. I am not going to do that again or anytime soon. It’s just not the way I can or want to eat. But, it’s exactly the way I ate for years…almost daily.

Feeling ill and unmotivated, I almost didn’t go to the gym. But, knowing that I am committed to blog, measure, weigh and take a picture, well, it got my butt moving. Unwillingly, I went to my Zumba class. Now, usually I like to hide in the back row, but this class was so packed that I had to move to the middle. I tried not worry about blocking the view for the gals behind me…which I am sure I did anyways.

I danced. It hurt. My stomach hurt. My muscles ached. My back was tight….and so, I thought about just doing 30 minutes and leaving. But that isn’t who I want to be anymore. The half-assed way is not ok. So, instead, I forced myself to think about how great it will feel in 9 months, when I am on the beach in Maui. I envisioned myself barefoot, sun kissed and wearing a cute Hawaiian sundress. I saw myself dancing and laughing to the music on the beach with my hubby and my daughter. I thought about it to the point where I closed my eyes, and let the music move me…and it did. I found myself smiling and thinking that I will remember this day, this class. The one I almost left. In December, when I am on that beach, I will choose to think about how I stayed in this class, in this moment and how I earned every single second of it.


I left the gym and felt renewed, energized and ready for my weigh in and measurements. I got home and went to get a glass of water and found this note from my husband:

All things are difficult before they are easy.
-Thomas Fuller


AHHHH! What perfect timing he has!! I still don’t know what I did to deserve this guy. He is my rock. He is my biggest fan. He is amazing.

Into the living room I floated, smiling and eager to take my measurements.

I am so proud to say that I have lost a total of 9.25 inches!

Arms:   -1.75

Hips     -2.5

Tummy -5.0 <<<< YAY!

My bust and thighs seem to have stayed the same, which is fine. I am way more motivated by my arms and tummy. The weigh in stayed the same as last week—I have lost less than 5 lbs. But, the measurements---well, HOLLA!

So, it’s working. IT IS WORKING!!!

Here is my latest pic.

Thanks for taking this voyage with me.

Hip Hop class tonight, ahhhh yeah!