This blog exists for someone who never even read it. I love my grandmother, but watching her try to navigate the internet was laughable. Our computer time was filled with such gems as "Can you write me step by step instructions on how to work my Ipod?" "But I don't want to download Itunes". "Do you play Farkle?" "Will this give me a virus?" "Will this give me a virus?" "Will THIS give me a virus?". Truthfully, I never showed it to her because I didn't want to have a ten minute conversation on what a blog was, why I have one, and how it won't give my computer a virus. And also, if she read it, I'd have to tone down my use of the word fuck.
But all of the losing weight I'm doing, it was for her. She was diagnosed with cancer in June, had some operations, got some things taken out of her, went through chemo, lost her hair, lost her immune system, got an infection of some sort, and died two weeks ago.
I'll be honest here, I didn't take her cancer seriously enough. We were getting excellent feedback from the doctors, we were reading all about breast cancer, and her prognosis was great. Breast cancer has such a high survival rate. We all figured that she'd get over it, we'd rejoice, and life would go back to being pretty normal. And I guess all that crap about breast cancer being so beatable I can't really find fault with that either. It wasn't the cancer that killed, her, it was the fucking (sorry MM) chemotherapy. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to pull down all of those fucking "pink ribbon for cancer awareness" displays from the shelves every time I see them. And I do fucking see them. It's breast cancer month, didn't you know? They're fucking everywhere.
If I sound angry, it's because I am. I've graduated to the next step in the grief cycle, I guess, because i walk around all day, livid. I'm mad at myself for not being as good a granddaughter as I could be, for not getting married and having kids so she could see them, for not being more involved in her treatment. It scared me, seeing her go through that. And I took the pussy way out and didn't see her as often because I really believed that she would get better. I'm mad at her doctors for not treating her any other way, and I'm mad at her for getting sick. I had a five minute yelling match (one sided) with her in my head yesterday, I was so angry that she's gone. And then I spent the rest of the day feeling guilty.
You know what's not comforting me? People saying things like "She's looking down on you", "She'll watch over you". I would personally like to think that if there is a Heaven, she's got better things to do than watch me. I don't want my grandmother to be a ghost, or someone who can't move on. If there's anywhere else to go from here, I hope she's kicking up her heels and doing whatever the hell she wants. And why would she want to watch me when she's got crosswords and hottubs, and every dog we've ever had that's passed away, and no diabetes, and no cancer. I just can't hear that any more, I'm sorry.
I went to the gym the other day...this IS a weight loss blog after all...and I got through my workout, after which I burst into tears. No, that's not even true. My favorite bike was being cleaned and I couldn't use it, and THEN I burst into tears. And again, after. Because I'm turning my whole life around and she'll never know. She and I were so bad about losing weight together. We went to Weight Watchers once, and got milkshakes after. Apparently that's pretty common. We'd walk the track on Sunday mornings and get breakfast after that, too. And then we'd wonder why the scale was moving in the opposite direction. We had a great time, though, we really did.
My family is doing this walk for cancer at the end of the month. I'll break my hand if I don't get over my desire to punch people in pink. And I don't think I will get over it by then. I don't think losing something you get over, it's just something you adapt to. And that fucking sucks.
Fuck.
Sorry, Mom Mom.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
I miss Robert Stack
Whenever I think about writing another post, I hear Robert Stack in my head. He's very serious, and he's o so dapper, and that one little word just repeats and repeats.
Update.
There's a lot of good news on this end. I've signed up for a 5k. My feet have stopped hurting. I'm starting to...dare I say it...enjoy biking. Don't tell anyone. And I'm continuing to lose weight. My personal goal for this week is to bike 40 miles, which is actually doable, because if I get on the stationary bike (bike actual never goes that far, mainly because of the frakking heat. I can't wait until Fall because there are some most excellent paths here), I'm generally on for 10 miles or more. If I can do 40, then next week, I'll up it.
I remember a time when Billy Blanks and I were like two peas in a pod. That is, if one of the peas was short and fat, and the other had a mouth on 'im like freaking Jaws. I tae-boed my little ass off. Okay, I skipped the cool-down, and I might have used the "Hey, I worked out today, so gimme some Ben and Jerrys" line a little too often. My relationship with Billy, and Gillian, Jack Lalaine (yeah, like you haven't juiced) and that P90x guy have all been very one sided. Much like my relationship to Robert Stack, actually.
A couple of months ago, I joined a site called Daily Mile. It's basically facetwitter for the athletically inclined. And the wanna-bes. And the "like me's". And this site is amazing. I'm tracking my workouts, and five minutes later, I get all kinds of feedback from people all over the country. If I don't post a workout for a few days, I get asked about it. Occasionally, well intentioned flack about it, too. I have a friend from Boston who has cycled over 150 miles this last week, and I'm jacked up for him, too. I'm sure there are a million sites like this online, (not to mention Weight Watchers) sites that thrive on peer feedback. But this is mine, and for the first time in months, I'm starting to feel really good about the changes I'm making. I'm not begrudging my trips to the gym anymore (especially during sharkweek!), and I'm really happy about that. I feel kind of invincible, and it's a groovy thing. The fact that it's all online makes it really easy, too. I know this update (Robert!) sounds a bit like a commercial, but I am no paid shill, ladies and gents. I'm just...happy with myself. I'm really coming along.
Update.
There's a lot of good news on this end. I've signed up for a 5k. My feet have stopped hurting. I'm starting to...dare I say it...enjoy biking. Don't tell anyone. And I'm continuing to lose weight. My personal goal for this week is to bike 40 miles, which is actually doable, because if I get on the stationary bike (bike actual never goes that far, mainly because of the frakking heat. I can't wait until Fall because there are some most excellent paths here), I'm generally on for 10 miles or more. If I can do 40, then next week, I'll up it.
I remember a time when Billy Blanks and I were like two peas in a pod. That is, if one of the peas was short and fat, and the other had a mouth on 'im like freaking Jaws. I tae-boed my little ass off. Okay, I skipped the cool-down, and I might have used the "Hey, I worked out today, so gimme some Ben and Jerrys" line a little too often. My relationship with Billy, and Gillian, Jack Lalaine (yeah, like you haven't juiced) and that P90x guy have all been very one sided. Much like my relationship to Robert Stack, actually.
A couple of months ago, I joined a site called Daily Mile. It's basically facetwitter for the athletically inclined. And the wanna-bes. And the "like me's". And this site is amazing. I'm tracking my workouts, and five minutes later, I get all kinds of feedback from people all over the country. If I don't post a workout for a few days, I get asked about it. Occasionally, well intentioned flack about it, too. I have a friend from Boston who has cycled over 150 miles this last week, and I'm jacked up for him, too. I'm sure there are a million sites like this online, (not to mention Weight Watchers) sites that thrive on peer feedback. But this is mine, and for the first time in months, I'm starting to feel really good about the changes I'm making. I'm not begrudging my trips to the gym anymore (especially during sharkweek!), and I'm really happy about that. I feel kind of invincible, and it's a groovy thing. The fact that it's all online makes it really easy, too. I know this update (Robert!) sounds a bit like a commercial, but I am no paid shill, ladies and gents. I'm just...happy with myself. I'm really coming along.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.
Tonight I'm making having some friends over and making spaghetti. It's gross outside, over 100 degrees, but my air conditioner works just fine. I've got some awesome garlic bread, whole wheat noodles, and I just chopped up a ton of veggies for a homemade sauce. What I'm really excited about, is that the basil, tomatoes, Swiss chard, and peppers all came from either my or my friend's garden. I can't get over how sweet the Roma tomatoes I have taste, and the plant is as tall as I am. Hopefully I'll have enough to can, too.
As I mentioned in my last post, I had to stop running, because of my feet. My feet are still killing me, a month later. I really hope I won't have to end up getting a Cortisone shot, or something because I know that once my feet stop hurting, I'll run the risk or re injuring myself by overdoing it. I can report though, that swimming has been going better, and I've been burning miles on the stationary bike as well. I'm down a few pounds since last month, too. In a fit of early morning Math, my brother calculated that 77 times around our parent's pool equaled one mile, and there were a few days when I was jogging around, and around in circles like the world's wettest Nascar driver.
I'm planning on running a 5k in late October, if my heels are up to it, and I'm thinking that all the bike work I'm putting is will do wonders for my endurance. I can't wait for it to cool off, though, so I can grab an actual bike and go adventuring.
That is all the news my fried brain can remember. It's been a quiet month.
Cheers to Dan Bolton who is chugging away on his own projects - If I could be half as productive as you are in a weekend, I'd be thrilled.
As I mentioned in my last post, I had to stop running, because of my feet. My feet are still killing me, a month later. I really hope I won't have to end up getting a Cortisone shot, or something because I know that once my feet stop hurting, I'll run the risk or re injuring myself by overdoing it. I can report though, that swimming has been going better, and I've been burning miles on the stationary bike as well. I'm down a few pounds since last month, too. In a fit of early morning Math, my brother calculated that 77 times around our parent's pool equaled one mile, and there were a few days when I was jogging around, and around in circles like the world's wettest Nascar driver.
I'm planning on running a 5k in late October, if my heels are up to it, and I'm thinking that all the bike work I'm putting is will do wonders for my endurance. I can't wait for it to cool off, though, so I can grab an actual bike and go adventuring.
That is all the news my fried brain can remember. It's been a quiet month.
Cheers to Dan Bolton who is chugging away on his own projects - If I could be half as productive as you are in a weekend, I'd be thrilled.
Friday, June 24, 2011
I'm bad at this
Plus, I have plantar facsitis. So I can't run for a while. I haven't been able to come up with any decent puns describing my foot woes and I feel like I might be losing my touch. Also, I've decided to take up swimming and biking, to give my feet a workout. Does anyone else think this might not end well?
Glub, glub, glub.
That little guy thirty seconds in, clinging for dear life? That'll be me.
Glub, glub, glub.
That little guy thirty seconds in, clinging for dear life? That'll be me.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
The Sympathy Belly
Know what makes getting turned down from yet another job better?
Candy Bars.
Unfortunately, I don't have any change to hit up the vending machine, so my candy bender is not to be.
I'm trying to set up a couple of internships this summer (instead of working), at different places around town. I'm very interested in cooking and improving my skills, and I would love to be able to head to a confectionery, or coffee shop, or home made wine shop (ahem) once a week to learn whatever there is to learn. And to take back what I learned and make my friends fat.
Which, by the way, is the inspiration for today's entry title. My boyfriend, W, informed me yesterday that he needed to go back to the gym because he was growing a "sympathy belly". For me. Because he is sympathetic to my waistline.
I don't WANT him to be sympathetic to my waistline! I'm not knocked up! My waistline is a pre-existing condition, not an unfortunate car accident.
I laughed at the time (and I'm kind of chuckling now), but REALLY? And the worst part about it is that when he takes his flab off, it's going to take him about three seconds and three sit ups to do it.
Today I'm going to the track and running, if the weather holds. If not, I'll be spending the night stewing about W's sorry assed Buddha belly. But I'll do it with a salad.
Candy Bars.
Unfortunately, I don't have any change to hit up the vending machine, so my candy bender is not to be.
I'm trying to set up a couple of internships this summer (instead of working), at different places around town. I'm very interested in cooking and improving my skills, and I would love to be able to head to a confectionery, or coffee shop, or home made wine shop (ahem) once a week to learn whatever there is to learn. And to take back what I learned and make my friends fat.
Which, by the way, is the inspiration for today's entry title. My boyfriend, W, informed me yesterday that he needed to go back to the gym because he was growing a "sympathy belly". For me. Because he is sympathetic to my waistline.
I don't WANT him to be sympathetic to my waistline! I'm not knocked up! My waistline is a pre-existing condition, not an unfortunate car accident.
I laughed at the time (and I'm kind of chuckling now), but REALLY? And the worst part about it is that when he takes his flab off, it's going to take him about three seconds and three sit ups to do it.
Today I'm going to the track and running, if the weather holds. If not, I'll be spending the night stewing about W's sorry assed Buddha belly. But I'll do it with a salad.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Get Back To Where You Once Belonged
Peeps, I have been using Spring as a full proof excuse to not do a damned thing. My last day of spring break is today, and I'm sorry to report (but report I shall, because this partly about accountability) that I have not been to the gym in two weeks. Couple that with a Dr. Who premiere celebration, assorted Spring holidays, countless ball games (complete with beer!) and last night's time traveling trip back to 2005 (A reunion of sorts, most of which taking place in a diner), and I've managed to put a couple pounds back on the scale (Yes, W. Just a couple). I gotta get back to it, because I feel like a sack of potatoes.
Time to set some new goals.
Goal 1 - Post progress, or lack there of, every other day.
I know this'll make my blog pop on your feed more, folks, but I was serious when I said that this was for accountability.
Goal 2 - Get back to the damned gym (or the track, the baseball diamond, SOMEWHERE) every other day. No more "well, I ran around with the kids all day so I don't need to work out". That's just bullshit.
Goal 3 - Get back to eating better. My Easter candy is all gone, I'm about to go back to work, and there are no parties in my future.
This is my week, kids. I can feel it. And yes, I know the week is half over. Baby steps.
In other news, jump over to http://mdhomevintner.blogspot.com/, where my industrious friend is making delicious sounding things. (Very proud of you, D!)
Keep on rocking me, baby.
Time to set some new goals.
Goal 1 - Post progress, or lack there of, every other day.
I know this'll make my blog pop on your feed more, folks, but I was serious when I said that this was for accountability.
Goal 2 - Get back to the damned gym (or the track, the baseball diamond, SOMEWHERE) every other day. No more "well, I ran around with the kids all day so I don't need to work out". That's just bullshit.
Goal 3 - Get back to eating better. My Easter candy is all gone, I'm about to go back to work, and there are no parties in my future.
This is my week, kids. I can feel it. And yes, I know the week is half over. Baby steps.
In other news, jump over to http://mdhomevintner.blogspot.com/, where my industrious friend is making delicious sounding things. (Very proud of you, D!)
Keep on rocking me, baby.
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