Death by Mini Egg

I had a brutal weekend. Food wise I mean… Let’s see, just to break it down, I had probably 2-3 CUPS of mini eggs, I had 2 hotdogs and a small hot fudge sundae from DQ, I had pizza for supper last night, on Friday I had about a bottle of wine to myself as well as enough junk food (and some not-so-junky food) to kill a horse. I completely lost my mind. I was tired and lazy and except for a bit of cleaning on Friday after work, I literally did sweet eff all for the rest of the weekend. I had intentions of running the track at Pan Am on Sunday morning but when I checked (at 7:30am) to make sure they were open early, I found out the track was “closed until further notice”. So I had mini eggs for breakfast instead.

I haven’t called back Jenny Craig to tell them I quit, but I did put WW in my work calendar as a meeting so no one could schedule me for something else. So Wednesday I will be back at WW and I intend on hitting it with full force. Apparently no plan at all results in weekends like the one I just had, and well, frankly, that can’t happen again. At least not for a very long time.  I’m not playing the blame game; I’m not going to try and make excuses or “figure out” what’s wrong with me. I had a lazy fat weekend. Move on. I was tired and I had a good time with my friends on Friday night and that’s it.

I went for my run at lunch time and as I expected, it was tough. I made it three miles but it was a struggle. Took almost 45 minutes so there was obviously a few walking breaks in there. I warmed up but then ran for 10 minutes. It seems like when I my first run is “longer” then I struggle with the rest of the run. After I did the ten minutes, the next one was only five… then four for a few of them then lower and lower. The last five minutes I forced myself to run and I could definitely hear Darth Vader running along with me.

Now all things aside, I have noticed that I’m not sore today. My hips are usually sore enough that when I get up out of my chair I’m limping for a good 10 steps or so until they loosen up. Although I have started taking Glucosamine because I’m 100 years old. Ha.  Seriously though, perhaps my body is starting to adjust… and my pants feel a little looser. Not a lot, but a little.

So even the fact that I had a bad food weekend, I will continue on. The exercise is working. Having a goal is working. Would it all work faster and better if I would quit the mini eggs?? Probably…  but seriously, who buys a 2 pound bag of mini eggs and leaves them in the pantry to torture me? MY husband. What a loving, supportive man I have don’t I?? But I'm not blaming him. I am the master of what I put in my mouth.  Let's just hope HE remembers that next time he brings home Mini Eggs.

The end of a season

March 9, 2011

Why can they make vitamins that look and taste like gummy bears, but not cauliflower that is somehow more appealing? I hate cauliflower. It smells like farts when you cook it.

I haven’t been neglecting my writing; I’ve been neglecting posting my writing so there will be a few entries all on the same day. Sunday night I had Ringette and we won, which then advanced us up the playoff roster and we played Monday night. Which we lost so that knocked us out. We lost a game the Saturday before which I missed due to my Jamaica travels. I found myself sad that Ringette was over this year which was a bit of a switch since I’ve been finding myself relieved at season’s end the last few years. Since I started running and working out, it’s definitely enhanced my game on the ice and I was feeling like I was actually contributing (and skating my buns off) rather than feeling bad about “dragging” my team down. I’ve sucked the past few years. I know I have, you can’t carry around this much extra weight and not have it affect your athletic prowess. J Needless to say, I was finally feeling like an asset on the ice and now the season is over. So that made a little sad.

I missed two soccer games while in paradise and last night put me back on the field. I was worried about my calf… and I played like I was worried about my calf. I couldn’t break into a sprint at all because I was terrified of ripping the muscle like I did a few years ago at softball and being out of commission for over a month. This marathon has become really important to me and not being able to train/run for a long period of time because of a sucky soccer injury (I say sucky, because we really had a sucky season of losing) would be devastating to someone of my fragile running mind set. I’m already teetering on the edge of the fence about my abilities to pull off the 13 miles… Taking a month out of my training might topple me over to the fat side.

Anyway, my sucky playing aside, we lost. Which means soccer is over for the season now too. My winter sports are done for the year and part of me is glad to be able to concentrate on running, my baby girl and the spring clean up that is going to be necessary at my house. But part of me is sad to not have that specific one hour a week where I get to forget everything but the sweat and the game and the cheering… because you know I’m all about the cheering. E and I were thinking of playing soccer this spring/summer, but after this winter… I think I might like to just train and have the freedom to go to all the kids games and hang with my rat baby. Besides, I’ve realized, I don’t really care for co-ed sports. Boys are dumb and testosteronie.

If I had a gun...

March 4

World War Three happened at my house last night. To put it bluntly, my husband sucks ass. I’m seething with anger right now and anything I write is going to be completely one sided and my view only as it should be since it’s my flipping blog. We have been discussing sending our rat baby to BH for months now. I knew it was going to be a long road of convincing since my husband is often referred to the “cheapest man on the planet” but I figured after we went to the facility TWICE and saw how great it is, spoke to the Principal and she told us all the pros of girls only education, after we talked for hours and AGREED that we think A isn’t getting enough stimulation… I though that he would see that it is a fantastic opportunity for our ONLY daughter and realize it’s the best thing we could do for her. Alas I was wrong. Not only does the almighty dollar speak far louder to his pea brain but he also found it necessary to make a comment about how “he will have to do everything”. As I type it I can’t even believe he said it. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID IT. I’m so angry. I’m so sick and tired of his bullshit and putting his bank account before us. I guess I let it go when he did it to me, but now he’s doing it to her?? He’s a son of a bitch. I’m already preparing for next year. I will pay for it myself and he can SUCK IT. In a big way.

5 days in Paradise, 2 days in hell

February 27

We got back last night and I’m soooo tired. I never would have thought that a 5 hour flight would result in a full 12 hours of travelling. But it did. Both ways. Last Saturday we left at 5am, flight at 7:30am. Landed and got off the plane in Jamaica by 2pm. Waited with about 3500 other people in a line to get through customs until a large Jamaican man in a uniform came up to us, pointed and A and said “who is with her?” in a deep and frightening tone. I almost didn’t admit to being her mom. When I did he moved us into a shorter line. I would have kissed him if he wasn’t so damn scary. Then it took us about 45 minutes to find our luggage since it got off the plane at the same time we did, and then hucked in a corner somewhere to make room for the other 3498 pieces of luggage coming through. Once we found our luggage we made our way to the bus where we then waited at least a half an hour for a bus to show up and then when we were on the bus we waiting about an hour for everyone who didn’t get “rushed” through customs because of their 2 year old. The hour and a half bus ride to Ocho Rios was only stalled once because passengers wanted to stop on the way to our All Inclusive for a beer on the side of the road. Yup. We got to our hotel at 7pm. 14 hours for a 5 hour flight. Yesterday was quite similar, waiting for idiots, waiting in line for hotel check out, baggage check in, waiting to get through security, waiting in line for lunch, waiting waiting waiting. Considering all the line standing, waiting and idiots, my kid was a ROCK STAR. She was so good. Funny, entertaining with her 1000 little high pitched questions. Only a couple meltdowns and she only spilled 5 drinks on herself… I mean really, she’s 2.5 years old. She was fantastic.

Now in Jamaica, miss A and I had such a good time. She was so much fun. Thank god she was there because with the amount of time my husband spent watching TV in the room, checking his email, surfing the net in the lobby and going to meetings, well frankly, she kept me busy and having fun. Otherwise if not for her, I’m pretty sure I would have found something to keep my busy in Jamaica. My parents and I went for a fantastic massage at the spa, Avery and I fed the fish in the fish pond almost every day, we swam like fish, we sunbathed, we played in the sand and built sand castles, she ran around on the stage with her sunglass on like a rock star, I drank 1000 chocolate monkeys never once even getting a buzz. We ate like fools and cuddled and stayed up late and had no naps and talked and talked and talked. We watched the entertainment every night and she loved watching the dancers. We danced on the beach together to a reggae band. We went on a boat and held each other tight when the waves were scary big and she jumped off the boat into my dads arms in her panties and life jacket into the ocean off that boat. She’s so brave!  My dad and another guy and I rented snorkel gear and went snorkelling. The waves were big and it ended up being quite a workout but it was awesome. I had a great time and I think miss A did too.