Fit + Flabuless!

But perhaps you are right.

The blog may be dead, but the fitness is still alive! I hope?

I believe this here blog has run its course. . . .

Good luck in the continuing quest for the fit and flabuless!

TTT kicked my upper bod today and I love her for it! She distracted me from the pain of really heavy chest and shoulder presses by telling me stories about and imitating her drag queen friends and acquaintances. You have no idea how hard it is to bench press 2/3 of your body weight while a 5-foot tall bubble-butted blondie body builder prances around like a queen. She also gave me a derishus, citrus-cilantro scented candle and a t-shirt for my birdie last week.

Pam gave me a beautiful heart-shaped stone yesterday for my birthday, too.

I am realizing something huge, at a heartfelt level here. Y'all are my family. I was born into some crazy shit, for better, for worse, but I've cultivated a family around me who are not related to me by blood. We are related on a much deeper plane. We choose to connect not because we have to, but because we truly care about each other.

How fucking great is that?

I likes it. I've also realized that my love and connection to hooligans such as Dr. Dr. Ramon and Mr. IB isn't about a sexual love, it's about family. Those mufuggahs are my family. They know me, they get me, they've seen me grow up right before their very eyes, they put up with me from time to time, they piss me off royally, but they're there for me in the ways they can be. And most of the time, it ain't enough. Ain't that family?

I feel liberated.

Well. It's tough to feel fabulous or flabuless after the splendiddley time we had in SF. Nuthin'll ever be the same again, as far as I'm concerned.

And this is a good thing.

I hit the gym hard yesterday with TTT--burned up 600 cals or more on the ARC and then did a serious leg workout. Today I'm feelin' it. Might run later.

I've been eating eggs, cans of soup and Amy's frozen dinners. I ain't grocery shopping before I head East. Hell with that.

I feel invigorated by the trip--centered and happy to be me. Working on learning to embrace my largesse wherever I am, not just in places where it is particularly appropriate, i.e. San Francisco. I'm learning to sit with my longing, observe my own desires rather than aim for instant gratification and/or satiating desire. You can learn a lot about yourself by being present in your own desire without being attached to the expectation and potential pleasure that might come out of satiating the desire.

This means: I don't have to move to SF right away; I don't have to wear a size 4 jean; I don't have to be in a relationship with anyone but myself right now; I don't have to eat dessert with every meal; I don't have to ever run a marathon again; I don't have to work for peanuts in the hopes that one day the institution I work for will create solid space for me.

I am Fine. I believe walking that labyrinth with the intention of Clarity has already kicked in. My aim is to enter all things the same way I entered the labyrinth last Thursday: open to observation, receiving, and meeting myself exactly where I am.

Big, fat, juicy kisses to you and Mr. C for coming out to SF, for witnessing my life, for letting me be who I am--for better, for worse, and for all-around being the finest, fun-est travelin' (aka, whorin'drinkin'brawlin') partners around. Being with y'all helps me be who I am. Cain't ask for better than that.

Not really, but I wanted to keep the theme of boxes going.

Went to the new gym again today and put in a full hour on the elliptical. Their elliptical machines are some different model than the ones at the old gym, but the same manufacturer. This is only important because, after an hour on these new ones (which has been my standard-length workout, you know) at lower resistance, I thought I was going to die today. Like, almost-blacked-out-felt-nauseous-got-weird-dizzy-sweats-and-had-to-sit-down-for-a-really-long-time- thought I was going to die. Either those machines are a lot fucking harder, or something is suddenly very wrong with me. Yeesh. I really am quite concerned.

Anyway. My really-long sit-down happened to be in front of a full-wall mirror in the ladies' locker room, and as I sat there struggling to recover, a few things occurred to me:

1. I am such a fucking pear. It irritates the shit out of me.
2. I've lost a lot of weight. And yet, I'm still really fat. It irritates the shit out of me.
3. I've been working out regularly for over a year, and I like it and feel better, but still am quite unhappy with my body, which, in case you hadn't guessed, irritates the shit out of me.

So now I'm thinking maybe I should join something like that evil LA Weightloss or something. Because I really just need to concentrate on losing fat. And that tends to do that rather quickly.

I know you say we are only separated by a few pounds now and I can't complain like I used to, but the fact is, even if we weighed the very same, I'd still be fatter. I just would. I'm shorter, for one thing. And, well, I dunno, something is just different. I think I could honestly need to lose another 60-70 lbs. to look normal. So I reserve the right to continue to complain and make crazy crash-diet plans while simultaneously encouraging you to love yourself as you are.

Feel free to start throwing things at your screen.

So, my colleague brought in a homemade chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream frosting today. She told me she was going to. It's one of the reasons I hauled my dead ass into the office on a day I really didn't have to. Because she was on her way out as I came in, and I arrived in her office announcing I was on cake patrol, she gave me the last two slices in a cake box. 'Course I ate 'em already. Right out of the box. With a blue plastic fork. As I was huddling around the box and shoveling in bits of cake, another colleague came into my office to ask me a question.

Caught!

We laughed our asses off.

Now I'm suffering from a weird sugar headache/buzz. And my teeth feel furry.

I am not to be trusted around cake. Dammit!

And it ain't even my birthday yet!

Other than that, I had a good workout today with TTT. I sandwiched it between two cardio sessions, and dang if I wasn't sweatin' a good bunch. Good thing, too--almost cancels out the cake-in-a-box fest!

How you?

Both what I am in posting, and what I want in my life.

Well, I got up early yesterday and hiked up to the new gym location and put in 40 minutes of elliptical excitement, for a grand total of 80 minutes of activity.

I planned to do it all again today, but then I got terribly sick, so I've been sleeping off and on most of the day.

I have actually eaten today though, bad things, o'course, because Dr. P. was still here until late this afternoon. So I had a cupcake for breakfast, a hummus/baba sandwich and fries for lunch, and I've just had dinner of boniato mash and ground lamb leftover from the meat pie prep, and some bacon.

I said it: bacon.

Did you know turkey bacon and regular bacon has the same number of calories per slice?!?! I thought I was saving calories by eating turkey bacon! Turns out I'm only saving fat! Damnit!

Oy. I'm about to hit some more Theraflu and tuck in for the night, in hopes I can sleep this cold off before tomorrow, since I will be working every day for the rest of this week in hopes of earning extra cash for the trip. Oof.

Whuzzhappenin' in your fit and flabuless world these days?

Aunt Flo came to visit early today, which explains my crankiness and bloat, especially yesterday.

I've been good and running, except for yesterday and today. Tomorrow I'm back to TTT.

I'm hungry.

You?