On The 6th Day, She Bitched.

Hey guys! in the spirit of keeping the love of Throwback Thursday alive, i present to you my 6th day of eating better. Its been roughly six months and while i’ve slid slightly astray, i am absolutely smirking at my old self. I still have attitude about eating better. I will always choose a burger over this mess in my mind, but it’s hard to argue the results. 
It gets…..more routine. I wouldn’t say easier. But it becomes habit soon enough. So here is some throwback love for you guys. See ya next week!


I’m starting to feel the void. I feel as if I’m missing so much and I haven’t even been absent a full week!
Add to the withdrawal of Facebook and Twitter the withdrawal from diet soda and drive thru and you have a cranky bitch with a knack for a fix! It’s awful! I’m not exactly hungry, but my cravings are literally driving me mad. Id slaughter my own cow for a cheeseburger right now. I’d dig up the potato needed to deep fry and cut into golden pieces of heaven. Then I’d dip them in a chocolate shake of love and wash it all down with a gigantic diet fucking Dr Pepper!

People who claim eating healthy is the path to a happier self have clearly never experienced the menage-a-trois of bacon and burger held together by the bonds of cheddar. Have they never known the velvety texture of a medium rare steak on their tongue or the flavor explosion of creamy mashed potatoes? What are they eating when the rest of us are chasing sleeves of Oreos down our gullet with ice cold milk? And what could possibly brighten their Tuesday without the humble culinary workhorse of the Taco???

I’m convinced these people who thrive on tofu and kale are dying on the inside. We just can’t see it because it’s disguised in a toned, healthy, trim meat suit. We can’t hear their cries for help because we’re too busy judging them for their beauty and loudly criticizing our own soft vessels.

I ate a fucking kale salad today. With edemame (which I can’t pronounce), and onions. Had it not been drenched in a Thai sesame dressing, I’d likely have gnawed my way through two bites before barreling into the Carl’s Jr across the street.

Getting healthy is hard. Changing your ways is hard. But when Parkour is on the line….sacrifices must be made. I hope to look back on this post in six months and laugh at my naivete. Rembering with agony and humiliation my days as a marshmallow before acceptance into the soulless kale worshipping masses. Sure, I’ll live a little more comfortably without a pendulous gut hindering my most basic of movements. But you better believe that if my days of activity come to an end, I will die with a plate of nachos by my bed and a vodka in my hand.
Here’s today’s glamor shot. Don’t let the pretty colors fool you. It was about as satisfying as wet white bread.

When Cheese Curds Are The Answer

Let’s be honest, when are they not,  amiright?  This is a post about accountability, though, not necessarily the culinary delight from Wisconsin. 

Lately, I’ve been assaulted with major life altering events from all angles. Upcoming marriages, pregnancy in the family, state-crossing moves involving my inner circle, major family crises in my friends’ lives. I myself am wondering which road to take next. 

This has all come down the pipeline over the course of a couple weeks. WEEKS! Clearly, the universe is taking my empathic ways to task and daring me to adhere to somewhat healthy lifestyle choices. 

I have failed this round. Yet I gained so much knowledge in this latest run through the drive thru. I sat waiting for my cheese curds, upset already at the error of my ways. Suddenly it hit me. I’M AN EMOTIONAL EATER! While this shouldn’t come as a surprise, I had forgotten I’d had just such an epiphany not so many years ago. Like a light bulb flashing red above my head: “WARNING! This bitch binges cheese curds and regret when properly emotionally motivated.”

So as I snacked on m’curds, promising to move my mass around a little more today to pay for the party in my mouth, I took great notice of my eating triggers. When so many things of great importance happen all at once (don’t even get me started on Brexit up in here, either. I threw my thoughts on that mess over here), I turn to satiating, guilty treats like burgers and curds and oh so many alcohols! I figure “Hey, Self. Having a rough week? Yeah? Here…treat yourself. Shhhh…I won’t tell your calorie counter, it’ll be our secret!” Which, let’s be real, is a load of malarkey.  The only person I’m kidding is my damn self. 

I need to start recognizing my triggers: Friends/family going through crisis, major life decisions, the death of a beloved character in my favorite show (Looking at you, DC’s Legends of Tomorrow). I need to find healthier ways to destress. I mean, yeah cheese curds are nuggets sent forth from the gods to give us pleasure the likes few other foods can, but boy does the body pay a hefty price for that pleasure. 

So this week’s challenge will be for me to journal my emotions when I’m eating. Looking at whatever is about to go in my face hole and asking “Why are you eating this?” If the answer is deeper than “Cuz I’m hungry, bitch! What?” Then I need to put the item down and find a way to distract myself in a positive way. 

Eventually, I’m gonna cross the threshold of my gym again and on that day, I’m gonna try to justify eating a donut cuz oh my God I will be so sad. I wish I had that gym love so many people have but my god, I hate working out. So much. And it’s hotter than Satan’s asshole on jalapeño cornbread day in hell right now, so many outdoor activities are a no go right now. 

I challenge you all to ask yourselves why you’re eating as well. Are you actually hungry? Or are you bored? Stressed? Premenstrual? PreMANstrual? Just feel like a fucking candy bar and Jesus, Erin, stop asking me all these questions?! 

See if there’s a better choice you can make. But don’t beat yourself up too badly if you just want to eat the fucking candy bar. It’s a process. And life’s too short to deny ourselves some sinful pleasures. Think long game. Go team! 

Ok, I’m out….of cheese curds *que Incredible Hulk end credits music*

The Day I Decided To Take Action.


It’s cold and wet today. I’ve doubled up on my outerwear. I have managed to bite my lip in the same spot some six times now so it’s affecting my speech now. Aces.

I resumed the fitness app on my phone today in hopes it will hold me accountable for a better diet. I am only half a day in and I already hate it. Sandwiches, nuts, apples in place of burgers, fries, and donuts. Shit, who wouldn’t be pissed? Hardly a delightful tradeoff.

Just the same, I have to do something. I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been, torturing the scale at a ghastly 274 lbs, dude. So I’m gonna try and be super dedicated this time. I ain’t no spring chicken anymore and I am gaining far faster than I could ever lose. Here’s hoping I have good things to report next week.
Until then, back to the daily grind. I’d rather be home with a book and some coffee, tho. It’s supposed to be crappy all week. I’m excited lol.

This was Jan 4, 2016. The day I started to make healthier choices. I’ll try to continue these throwbacks weekly to share my experiences and give inspiration to anyone just starting out.

Look At Me, Keeping My Word!

Told ya I’d be back today!

Ok, here’s what would have been yesterday’s post.

Lately, I’ve fallen off the wagon of good intentions. Remember I said how Phoenix Comicon happened? Yeah. Ok, for those unaware, Comicon is basically 4 days of poor breakfast choices and all the booze my liver can handle. I did get roughly 13K steps in daily, but it should be known I am capable of booze consumption that would rival a pirate after a plunder and some lazy walking isn’t gonna cut that number down to a manageable size.

Basically, that trend continue well after Con. This past weekend I received some life altering news (not bad, just a change) followed by some other rapid reality checks and before I knew it, I was in front of Smashburger with bad choices on my mind.

To my surprise, when I hit the counter, I heard my mouth saying the words “black bean burger”. Which was confusing to me since I had had every intention of saying “GIMME A DOUBLE HEART ATTACK WITH PIG AND REGRET!”

But there it was. The “healthier” option. Ordered before my brain knew what had happened. I didn’t correct my words. I smiled smugly to myself and took my healthier option out to the van (where most of my daily food is consumed as I drive for a living).

Upon that first bite, I applauded my verbal foible. It was delectable! So much flavor! Like…if tacos were a burger (a pair I’ve shipped for years now)!

It had avocado and cheese and lettuce and bacon and most likely sizzled to perfection on the abs of a Greek god! I have a new favorite option, people. I recommend! I have provided photo to further entice you. Nomz, amiright??


In a cruel twist of irony, the burger chimes in at 720 calories, ten more than the very same burger made with meat. I still feel good about the option, tho I’m  sure I can find a less hefty alternative at another establishment.

But yeah. If you need a cheat day thats kinda not really a cheat day…go get one! It filled me up for half the day!

Did Someone Say Hiatus?

HELLOOOO! I’m back, babeh!
Do you see a pattern? I have issues sticking with a damn plan. I’m far too lazy when I’m not serious to stick to any healthy regime.
So I let many moons pass. I fell hard off that wagon, dude. Landed right in a 274 pound pile of regrets.
So this January, with the masses, I decided enough was enough. Not only did I kick it into high gear with what I put in my face, I took a social media sabbatical. This led me to a journal. I kept a tally of my time away from others opinions and kept myself accountable with my weight loss all at once. If I slipped up, hey…I only had myself to judge me. I didn’t tell anyone I was going to make yet another stab at the healthy way of life. That way I couldn’t disappoint them or see the meager pity in their eyes when they inevitably watched me dive face first into a vat of ice cream and drown in a pitcher of beer (probably exactly how I wanna go out, by the way).

So I started counting calories on the sly. Kept a watchful eye on my pedometer. AND THAT’S IT! I do not workout. My only marathon preference is the One More Episode 16Hr Power Binge on Netflix. (I’ve gold medaled twice. No big deal)
I still eat ice cream and donuts and drink. But I keep a fuckin lid on it. So…keeping to a paltry 1400 calories a day, I’m sitting here six months later down around 40. It was 50, but comicon happened. Mistakes were enjoyed. With gusto. But I digress.

So I’ve gone back over those early journal entries when I was just starting out and they’re hilarious. So relatable. I thought “Hey, Self. Other struggling healthy wannabes might find your approach refreshing. A real talk, no bullshit, struggle is motherfuckin real kinda take on losing weight.”

So here I am. This blog will serve as both a diary for myself and a real time,  eye witness account of what a lazy broad does to lose weight. Every Thursday, I will do a flashback. Or Friday. I haven’t decided. On those days, much like Oliver Queen in Arrow, I will throw up my days of struggle from the journal. Until we arrive here.

I’ll share recipes I like, simple shit to toss in your mouth cuz oh my God who has time to make a sandwich right now *loud, dramatic sigh*, exercise when I get around to it, etc.

Let me be clear…I AM IN NO WAY A HEALTH EXPERT! This will all be totally unqualified experiences shared with the masses. Talk to your doctor before you take on a life changing health endeavor. Make sure you’re doing for you what is healthiest.

Look at this like a gal pal throwing fits over eating better while enjoying the benefits but holy shit she always wants fucking donuts! Yeah. That’s what this is. Let’s share our trials and triumphs and listen to gripes and just be awesome.

Ok?  Ok. So my next post will be tomorrow. A real one. Not this “yeah, I’m back once again this time I mean it” shit.
If you find the contents helpful, please spread me like an office virus to your friends and coworkers.

Alright, peeps. I’m out!

Bucked Off The Proverbial Horse

Hellooooooo, readers! I know, ya missed me, amiright? I took a major detour recently. First, I went on vacay for a week. When I came back, however,  I had a bacterial hitchhiker in my mouth. My wisdom tooth became infected fast and I looked like a chipmunk. I made my first dentist appointment in 20 years (don’t judge) and he insisted all four of my wisdom teeth HAD to come out. Aces.
So I went back the following week, after my infection was gone,  and out they came. My best friend has blackmail footage of my doped up behavior pre and post surg. Lol
I was unprepared for just how long the recovery for such a procedure was going to be. I thought I’d take the weekend and be right as rain by monday.
I can hear those of you who have also had wisdoms ripped out laughing at my ignorance. I was unable to function pain free for another week and a half. My mouth is only just now beginning to feel better two weeks after.
That being said, guess who opted out of gym time in lieu of vicodin and Netflix time? Also, i couldn’t eat anything my teeth had to work too hard for, so I was living on yogurt, instant mashed potatoes, and soft serve. I remained within my caloric dailies, but I can’t imagine a carb heavy diet did me any favors.
My first day back was three weeks after the last training session I had had before my vacation. It wasn’t pretty.  We went really easy. Then I didn’t come back til today. I also slipped back into my drive – thru habit, always telling myself “It’s fine, I’ll start again tomorrow”.
Last night I joined a gal pal for a few bevvies and before I knew it, it was 4am and I couldn’t remember if I had training today. I text my trainer and she said we could do 11am….and also it’s weigh-in day, girl!
I panicked. I was convinced my month of dental hell and subsequent diet slide had ensured all my weight was back.
I was pleasantly surprised today. I’m sitting at 251.8lbs.  Which, I believe, is roughly 14lbs down.
So with confidence renewed, I’m right back on the horse. Starting with a celebration quesadilla…Cuz quesadilla,  duh. Lol It’s from the gym cafe, so it’s all sorts of healthy. Tonight, I have a date with a treadmill. I’m pushing extra hard this time. If I’m bein honest, I’ve been half-assing it for a long time. Only weight training once a week with my trainer. I’m gonna do that three times a week now.  Let’s see how that goes…
Til next time, guys!
“Kirk, Out!”

The Stagnant Plateau: Are We There Yet?

Well, readers, I seem to be moving along at a doped up snail’s pace through concrete with the dropping of pounds. It’s incredibly vexing.

I stepped onto the cold steel platform of the gym’s locker room scale tonight and blew out a sigh of exasperation. I’ve barely budged the stubborn numbers. They stared back at me, taunting me. 257.4. I heard them singing “Nanny nanny boo boo!”

I’ve made some slight slip ups, granted. One too many cocktails one weekend. An ice cream that I had the leftover calories for….until I followed it with a 100 cal pack of mini cookies. I usually don’t find myself in the gym on those two blessed of days at the end of the work week.

However, despite my weekly diligence of a minimal three visits a week, typically the first three consecutive weekdays, and trying my utmost to burn at least 500 calories, I find myself shorting the workouts at least once. This week saw the incompletion of two such sessions. I wrung out a measley 250 yesterday. This past evening, I tried a little harder catapulting over the 400 mark.

Still the scale mocks me. I’d be more inclined to believe my actions were having an effect if my clothing at least fit better. It does not. My work pants, the singular pair I wear daily, haven’t released even the smallest of measure from my waistline.

Times like these, I feel if it’s even worth the effort.  “Eating healthy isn’t working, might as well grab that pumpkin donut”, “My sweat means nothing, no point going in tonight”. Each phrase I muttered to myself this week alone. But the convenience store was out of the delectable donuts. I already had my gym bag in the car…might as well put the contents to use. Fate, it seems, is turning out to be on my svelte side. Lucky me.

No words of encouragement are uplifiting. When I feel so unaccomplished, the friend charging me on with the “Don’t give up! ” mantra serves about the same purpose as one begging an overly angry person to calm down.
The words of encouragement I need I must find inside myself. At times, I think “Maybe I’m just meant to be fat. Perhaps my window of successful weight loss has closed”.
These are the thoughts of a self-pitying woman who is losing hope.

Then….i snap the hell out of it! It is the fat speaking to me. It’s quite comfy round my midsection, thighs, and arms. It will plant seeds of failure with every cell of its army that dies at my hands (more aptly, legs, what with the treadmill responsible for the demise of 80% of the fat). I started around the 265 mark. A month ago. So slight a decrease, while disappointing to one who demands instant release of the fat prison she’s trapped herself in, is still a DECLINE!!! Let’s examine just how heavy those 8 pounds are:
1) it’s about as heavy as a sack of potatoes. 
2) My purse weighs almost 8 lbs fully loaded
3) it’s the average weight of an infant. 
4) it’s 8 cartons of butter (the stick kind)

Now, to examine the diet exchange. In place of a Jack in the Box combo #4 I’ve instead switched to a small side salad and a small chili,  when I’m in a drive thru pinch. 
Instead of two or three fast food trips each work shift,  I pack my lunch with easily accessible (and drive friendly) snack options, such as a small sandwich,  string cheese, yogurt, veggie packs, and hummus.
So yes, I feeeeeel better, most assuredly. Gone are my daily attacks of heartburn, the incessant bloat, lethargy,  and general discomfort. My knees don’t hurt so bad anymore.

So while I definitely wish the numbers were proportional to how I’m feeling,  really this new life of mine is still in its infancy. I will discuss with my trainer possibilities why the scale is being a stubborn snatch and do my best to rectify the plateau, hopefully getting it to slope in a more southerly direction in the coming weeks.

Every person who undertakes such a task is going to be met with obstacles. We just have to remember to bring more dynamite to the party 😜. Keep at it. Keep at it. Keep at it. It’s a phrase that runs on a conveyor through my mind every day. It is very difficult. I favor the simplest road and the most immediate satisfaction with anything I take on. But I know I simply will not be a cozy 165 in a months time. My advancing age may also contribute to the stagnancy of the scale. Losing weight on the cusp of 36 is a much different ball game than going for it with the zest of the 24 year old.  So a special Eff You to hormones, you bastards.

At the end of the day, I still find myself climbing up on that treadmill, Arc trainer, or elliptical. I plug my ears with my purple ear buds and hit “start” on the chosen piece of equipment. And, while slowly at first, I begin to place one foot in front of the other until my playlist drowns out the world around me and my sweat pours down my face, expelling the old me in puddles at my feet. I will get there. We all will. Rome wasn’t built in a day. But ya bet your sweet ass those Romans had some sculpted, hard ass bods when it finally was built!  Cuz, ya know…marble’s fuckin heavy!

So I press on, moving my own marble, carving out a new habitable form. Believe me when I throw you this cliche, that if I can stick with it….The laziest,  most procrastinate being you’d ever care to meet…you can too! Don’t lose the faith! Build your empire!  Then when it’s built, run around naked in it!

Til next time,
“Kirk, Out!”

The Struggle Of The Nocturnal Gym Rat

As anyone who knows me knows well, I am the furthest thing from a morning person as you can get. I wake up on average around 1/1:30 in the afternoon, work a swing shift, then I’m at the gym til about 3am. By the time I get home,  it takes a while to decompress and get into sleepy mode. So I’m usually in bed around 5-6am. Most days that’s not a
problem. The days it IS a problem are my training days. Today was the second day I was late. I made my session for 11am. I was 20 minutes late.

So my trainer and I had a chit chat.  I only do 30 minute sessions, so really every moment counts. She let it slide this time but we decided that 11am just doesn’t work.  Here’s why: my waking up at 10:30am to be at the gym by 11 is the Day Walker’s equivalent to waking up at 5:30am….After having gone to bed at midnight or 1am. Yeah.

So my new workout time will be at 6am. Usually I’m still pretty rockin around then and since my training sessions are only 30 minutes, I can be home and in bed by 8am. Giving me about five hours of sleep before work. More than achievable for one day a week.

So that’s my new game plan. Even tho I was late today, she did give me something to do with my time. A 30 minute treadmill hill climb. I almost died.  But it was a good near-death. Lol I’m still kinda sweaty and that was an hour ago!

She was very pleased with my food choices. However, she now wants me to send her pics of the choices. She also thinks I should consider the metabolic test (275 bucks I don’t have) to accurately pinpoint when my body is burning fat and not carbs.  I told her maybe down the line I would. I’m still figuring this whole thing out. 

The weight this week is 260.1. So slowly it burns down. Right now I have to go shower cuz I smell like a dumpster full of dirty socks on a hot day. It’s not pleasant.  Lol

Til next time!
“Kirk, Out! “

I Came…I Partied…I Got Right Back In The Gym!

Well, Readers, I had quite the weekend to be sure!  The bestie had her cousin in from San Fran and we sure showed the west valley how it’s done! On top of that, i got to spend copious amounts of quality chit chat time with my own out of state visitor, Miss Charity!

Both Saturday and Sunday nights were full of flashy shenanigans. We danced our bits to pieces on Saturday and on Sunday, we mellowed a bit by enjoying some open mic sessions.

I managed to keep my calories under budget Saturday, but Sunday was a little over zealous (I blame you, $2 Draft beers!). I recovered well today, making sure I went right back on the veggie train and powered through a 45 minute varied incline treadmill and another 25 minute recumbant bike. The bike whooped my ass..literally.  The glutes are gonna be pissed tomorrow!

I have another training session Wednesday.  We shall see what my trainer has in store. I can tell she’s starting me slow.  Simple enough exercises, but man oh man do they rock me! Haven’t hopped on a scale yet, so I don’t have a weight update yet. I will
Wednesday tho.

I hope you all had a safe and awesome Labor Day. The summer is officially over in most parts of the nation, but Phoenix has a couple months of brutal heat left to contend with. 

Til the next time!
“Kirk, Out!”

I Was Gonna..Then I Wasn’t.

Well, readers..I skipped my gym today. Had all the intentions of going but when I got home from work to collect my gym swag, I was suddenly lacking in fresh swag. All the stinky!! So I opted instead to do epic amounts of laundry and sort my house. My landlord is coming tomorrow for an inspection to ensure we aren’t Breaking Bad up in here or running nefarious drug and hooker rings from the home. So natch, we had to let our dealers and ladies of the evening retire for the weekend to more profitable locales [insert sarcasm for anyone who isn’t bright enough to realize i have jokes].

This week has been good to me! While last night’s gym session was tedious and not a little boring, it was logged regardless. The abdominals are feelin the burn from the other day with gusto, so I must be doing it right. I remained between 1100-1400 calories a day all week and it was surprisingly easy. I’m recommending the Main Meal first then nibbles every couple hours the remainder of the day. Healthy nibbles, mind.  And always between 100-200 calories. I’ve had to remove a few more raw veggies on account of the vicious assault laid out by my gastric forces (I will always love you, sugar snap peas. Its not you. Its me). Heartburn is my undoing. As i shed some more poundage, I’m hopin that the gastric army will chillax and let the veggies invade. It has proven effective in the past.

I have my very good friend Charity in town this weekend and can’t wait to log some face time with her! Also, me and my ladies will be swankin up and hittin the DoPho scene Saturday night. To counter any damage to my plan, I will be imbibing vodka and no beers. Cuz Martinis are swanky and tiny and force u to sip. No straw, for me, means longer enjoyment of said beverage. Also, going to log monster session at the gym before i apply even one drop of makeup! 

For me, this lifestyle change is about balance. Social activities often involve alcohol in my world. Fortunately, regardless of how it may seem on my various social media pages, I don’t enjoy them often. And being as dedicated to this path as I am, I find it rather easy to pace myself. And most importantly,  LOG EVERY SINGLE BEVERAGE! Otherwise I lose track, throw caution,  then it’s all Advil and tacos the next day. Not this time! Baby steps..

Starting to notice some small changes in my innards. I feel less bloated, have more energy, and am sleeping much better.  Huzzah! I will be back after my weekend to update on my gym and diet progress when social engagements are on the line.  Hehe. 

Be well, my readers! 

“Kirk, Out!”