AUNT MARTHA, CHILDBIRTH, MENOPAUSE AND NOW THIS….

I went to the doctor with My Harley Stud today for his physical. She suggested that he try to lose 5 lbs. FIVE POUNDS! I hate him. She told me to lose thirty.

And to add insult to injury: Today at lunch, I swear the escalator at Dillards groaned when I stepped on.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

THE SECRET TO WEIGHT LOSS

All this time, I've been banging my head against the wall, searching for the motivation, failing and picking myself up to try again. Little did I know that all I had to do to find the sticktoitiveness to succeed at my diet/fitness plan was to go to the doctor. Dr. Black Cloud supplied with me with all the information necessary to conclude that I need to get fit and thin PDQ or I should start shopping for burial plots, I can look forward to an old age filled with disease and medications that will surely bankrupt me. Bottom line: Dr. Black Cloud is scaring me skinny.

Since making the executive decision to switch my family to the South Beach Diet way of eating, I've lost 14 lbs. My Harley Stud has also lost 14 lbs. This really ticks me off I'm so happy for him and God bless his soul, he isn't even trying and is losing the same amount by default. You see, he eats whatever I cook in the evening and eats however he pleases throughout the day. However, I don't buy sugary, high fat treats so he has less to choose from. Still and all, he is matching me pound for pound without any apparent effort and THAT IS SO UNFAIR isn't it wonderful!

I still have a long way to go but I am optimistic that I can still lose another 10 lbs before my class reunion. I still won't be at goal but finally moving in the right direction works just fine for me.

Daughter #1 has made it her personal mission to kill me, drag me all over the county to walk 4 miles a day, oversee my food and beverage consumption like the food nazi that she is (She hates that name) get me in better shape before my reunion.

Oh and by the way, wii wii no longer shouts to the heavens in his way too cheerful fashion that I'm OBESE! I am now just merely OVERWEIGHT. The damn wii wii still makes the announcement with a smile on his face and isn't even aware that he's in danger of having a remote shoved up his arse. Stupid wii wii!

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

RERUNS

As previously announced, I’m re-posting the Best of SMB this week – aka – the first posts that nobody but my family read.

MINI MID-LIFE CRISIS (First posted 8/2/08)

What was I thinking!

After hearing those dreaded words from my physician the other day informing me of my advancing age, I hauled myself into the gym. As I explained to my doctor, I exercise regularly and have for 2 ½ years. I have to admit that my routine has become a bit stale and I haven’t felt challenged for awhile. Maybe I need to try something new. These were the thoughts that were going through my head as I walked into the gym. I am not someone who truly enjoys the process of working out. The whole “runner’s high” thing – never experienced it. I’ve run 6k and 10k runs before………..nothing. My favorite part is when it’s over. But I realize that working out is a necessary evil in my life and I trudge on. The most enjoyable experience I’ve had while exercising has been taking aerobics classes. I think this is because I enjoy laughing even if it’s at myself. So anyway, I stopped at the desk on my way into the gym and asked if they plan to add any evening classes. I was told they do not. The classes are not well attended and they have to pay the instructors. I wanted to say that maybe the classes might be better attended if they held them when average people weren’t at work. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I continued on to the locker room and started up a conversation on this topic with a complete stranger. My new friend suggested that I try the IRON BODIES class that she was on her way to right that very moment. I made my “I don’t think so face” and told her that I thought I might be better matched with a Soft, Round, Cushy Body class. “Do they have any of those?” She smiled very sweetly and told me that the class is a great all over body work-out, you don’t need to bring anything more than a towel and water and you can go at your own pace. Uh, huh. Right.

For some reason that still is a mystery to me, I followed her into the classroom where IRON BODIES was being held. The instructor, Chris, looked like a nice enough man. He welcomed me as “fresh meat” and smiled as he instructed me to be sure to work at my own pace.

The music began. We used all sorts of toys during the class. There were steps, free weights, body bars, and rubber bands. We ran, forward and backward, we lunged, we lifted and moved to the music in ways this tired body has not moved for awhile. At mid-point in the class, as I was gasping for air and gulping down water, the nice woman from the locker room asked how I was doing. As I wiped the sweat from my brow, I told her that I didn’t think we could be friends. She offered encouragement saying that I was doing great. I was not convinced.

I don’t really consider myself competitive but at some point I completely forgot those words “at your own pace”. I don’t know what happened to me. I was determined to keep up with my classmates that have been taking this class on a regular basis. I’m not saying that I was keeping up with them but I was certainly trying. I didn’t quit. There were times I had to slow down to avoid collapsing in an embarrassing heap on the floor. But eventually we arrived at my favorite part: The end. I walked out of the gym on that day proud of my accomplishment. Thoughts like,” don’t tell me I’m getting older.”, “I’ve still got it.” “I finished, didn’t I? “ all went through my head.

Driving home, it occurred to me that maybe pushing myself to the limit on the very day that my doctor tells me that my blood pressure is high and I could be at risk for stroke might not have been the most intelligent decision I’ve ever made. What was I thinking! I think I could be having my own mini mid-life crisis. My “I’ll show you” attitude would not have played well had I stroked out on the dance floor.

Around 4:30pm the next day, I was reminded of my foolish behavior the day before. I had trouble standing up from my desk. For the next two days, I was stiff and sore beyond belief. Returning to the gym was out of the question as walking was barely possible. Oh yeah, I really showed ‘em.

You know, I really thought I was above all this. I thought getting older wouldn’t bother me. And it didn’t until that day that I woke up and saw bags under my eyes that don’t disappear after I’m completely awake, lines around my mouth and excess me around the middle that doesn’t want to budge no matter how much I diet and exercise. Oh and let us not forget the words of Dr. Good News. So apparently, I’m not above it all. I wonder if there a way to approach 50 years old …………….. (someday) …………..without having at least an occasional melt-down? Is there a way to escape this desperate attempt to hang on to our youth or is it something that we should just embrace and go for it?

Will there be another IRON BODIES class in my future? You bet but this time I will go at my own pace with nothing to prove to anyone but myself. And the next time I see a middle-aged, overweight, balding man in a little red corvette, I will still smile but it will be a knowing smile saying, hey, buddy, I’m right there with you.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED

I’ve had a hard time sticking to my workout regimen lately. All of a sudden the things that I’ve been neglecting while sitting on my fat arse blogging have piled up to the point that they can no longer be ignored. I’ve spent the last couple weeks trying to play catch up. Friday arrived and I committed myself to getting back on the exercise wagon because as you know my physician has informed me that I have one foot in the grave and it’s critical to improve my health it’s good for me. I made plans with Daugher #1 to go for a long power-walk after dinner.

When I say “power-walk”, I use the term loosely. D1, on the other hand, takes it very seriously. She walks like my mother…………….FAST! I have little stubby legs that have a hard time keeping up with her gait. Sometimes she even runs ahead and then runs back to get me. (Always good for my self-esteem) I’m no stranger to cardiovascular exercise and can usually hold my own with women my own age but this young chickee pisses me off, runs circles around me provides a challenge to which I can aspire.

We walked 4 miles on Friday evening. It was HOT! But it felt good. So good in fact that we made plans to walk at the beach the next morning. We walked for an hour the next morning at the beach. We wanted to power-walk so we didn’t go down to the water but instead chose to remain on the sidewalk where we could walk at a good clip without obstacles to slow us down.

The beach walk pretty much wiped me out. I think I was a little dehydrated and it didn’t help that I mowed the yard when I got home. By evening, I was feeling more than a little stiff and sore. I went to bed early to read and avoid excess movement that resulted in pain.

This morning, I awoke with the worst kink in my neck and my back and legs are so stiff and sore. It always amazes me how walking uses such totally different muscles as any other exercise including running. If you exercise regularly but don’t walk often, I would caution you to take it easy and ease yourself into it or end up like me: Popping muscle relaxers and ibuprofen while whining, moaning, groaning, b*tching, cursing and whining some more on the couch while watching favorite movies, tweeting and blogging.

All that and my crackberry died a slow death by drowning at the hands of a wicked water bottle that erupted all by itself. Contrary to reports by eyewitnesses, I swear it wasn’t my fault! I was merely trying to save the life of a flying library book and happened to have said water bottle in my hand at the time. Library book – 1, crackberry – 0. I think that the Palm Beach County Library system should reimburse me for my expenses to replace the phone and I don’t think it would be excessive to throw in a million or two for pain and suffering. (I’m sure that must be where the kink in my neck came from.) Oh sure…I’ll get a new crackberry but I’m not sure I can ever love another. It will never be the same.

Before I go back into my drug-induced coma, I want to mention that Nanny Goats in Panties is having a giveaway. Rachael Ray 10-pc cookware set! I think they would look very nice in my kitchen. In fact I’m sure of it. I get another entry by mentioning it here. You should go there and try to win them yourself or you could increase my chances to win by completely ignoring this paragraph. It’s up to you.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

YOGA PANTS………….NO MORE

You might remember back a few months ago when I was wishin’ and hopin’ and twistin’ and bendin’ in yogurt yoga class. I had a few questions. Braja was kind enough to enlighten me and explain as best she could to an idiot novice such as myself. There was one question that Braja didn’t answer for me though.

What makes yoga pants……”yoga pants”?

At the time I asked this question, I didn’t own a pair and was wearing the same workout wear to yoga class that I wore to workout in the gym. Uninformed and clueless as to what to look for in a great pair of yoga pants, I set off on a shopping adventure. I landed at Old Navy where I found two pair of yoga pants that appeared to be the items for which I was searching. I knew they were “yoga pants” because it said so on the tag. I took the “yoga pants” into the dressing room and tried them on. That’s when I discovered the secret.

OH.MY.HEAVENS! If you you don’t own a pair of these pants, stop what you’re doing right now and in the name of all that is downward dog and sun salutations, go to the store and buy yourself a pair of these comfy, cozy, pieces of fabric sewn into the most heavenly item of clothing you will step into. Shhhhh. Can you hear the angels singing?

It wasn’t long after the purchase of the lovely yoga pants that I discovered pilates and yoga went out with the baby and the bathwater. I loved pilates. So now my “yoga pants” became “pilates pants”. The problem was that my work schedule was preventing me to get to the classes that I wanted to attend. That’s when the fam stepped up with the wii wii for Mother’s Day and now I can yoga to my heart’s content and then some.

Working out in the comfort and seclusion of your own home requires no special attire. I exercise in whatever suits my fancy. I soon found myself slipping into my “yoga pilates pants just to lounge around the house.

We had a little birthday party at my house for my brother-in-law, BrainBuckets. I was still in my work clothes when it was time to have cake. Just before the cake was served, I realized I couldn’t take my slacks one more second. And that’s when I discovered the true purpose of my favorite cozy pants. No more would I refer to these lovelies as “yoga pants”. I would no longer call them “pilates pants”. I excused myself to change into my CAKE PANTS!

These are the pants that you slip on when you’re going to eat cake. You know that feeling on Thanksgiving Day when you have to undo that top button on your pants or your skirt. Totally not necessary with “CAKE PANTS”!

Everyone should have at least two pair. (You wouldn’t want to be caught in a cake situation and have your only pair of CAKE PANTS in the laundry, right?)

If you haven’t discovered CAKE PANTS, go NOW and get yourself two pair. You will thank me. Life and cake as you know it will never be the same.

**Of course you realize that I don’t eat cake now that the South Beach Diet has wormed its evil ways into my lifestyle. I may not eat cake but I damn sure wear my CAKE PANTS and dream about red velvet yumminess with cream cheese frosting any time I please.***

Namaste

CH CH CH CHANGES

 

Change can be scary and it can be exciting.  Things are changing around SMBland.   Nothing too earth shattering, mind you, but changes just the same.

While Daughter #1 was in San Diego visiting An Officer and a Gentleman, I took advantage of the Food Nazi’s absence and made an executive decision.  We sh*tcanned the DAMN ZONE diet and went back to the South Beach Diet.  She has been compliant with my food plan since her return, albeit begrudgingly.  I was just about to tell you not to mention that to her because she is still a little sensitive about the subject when she came into the room to tell me she is happy with the meal plan.  I in all my gloatiness for my brilliant decision proceeded to tell her that I was just writing about that very topic and how I thought she was a little touchy about it still.  She immediately turned on me made a face and rescinded her compliment.  When will I learn to just say “thanks” and leave it at that?

For what it’s worth, our new way of eating is working.  I think it’s safe to say that the whole family feels better in general.  Those of us (read: me) who need to lose are losing.  I don’t think I’ll be a size 6 by reunion time but I’ll at least be closer to it.  The important thing is that I believe we’ve found a way that we can eat healthy for life (with occasional splurges) and that’s what I wanted instead of a temporary diet change that never works in the long run.

One change I didn’t think I would ever be able to make was to give up sweet tea.  I am a Yankee by birth but my stomach is a real Southerner.  I’ve seen fit to give up fried food, cornbread (except the occasional splurge) and pecan toffee tassies all in the name of good nutrition but the one thing I couldn’t kick was my sweet tea habit.  It’s like crack to me.  I’ve tried making it with a sugar substitute. ICK!  *Side note:  I enjoy it with no sweetener at all if the tea is really good but I MUCH prefer good ole Southern sweet tea!*  But this week, D1 came home from Publix with their own sugar free iced tea.  OMG!  I’m in heaven.  I didn’t think it was possible but it’s not only good, it’s great. 

Yet another change:  I’m not really much of a soda drinker but lately I have this uncanny craving for diet Dr. Pepper.  Somebody explain that to me, please.

Wii Wii alternates daily between insulting me with a Wii age of 45 and encouraging me with a Wii age of 28.  Talk about changes.  Sheesh!  Oh and I continue to be OBESE and UNBALANCED.  Have I mentioned that I hate the Damn Wii Wii!

 

Oh and one more thing: 

I’m approaching my one year blogiversary.  Are there any rituals I should know about?  Sacrifices to be made?  Parties to plan?  I’m completely clueless, not to mention a real slacker.  Let me know if there’s something I should be doing.  And in case it’s something I don’t want to do, let me know the penalty also……Just sayin. 

And one more thing:

This blogiversary is a good time to reflect and analyze the past year and all that’s been written here.  What are your thoughts?  Do you come here for the nonsense or real information.  YES.I.DO. occasionally provide useful information to you.  Remember it was me who taught you about tiny yellow bags and wasted tax dollars.   What would YOU like to see more of in the coming year? 

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

SMB-READY TO SERVE IF CALLED

Last week I told you about how Daughter #1 is home for the summer and has become the Food Nazi. She has placed the whole family on THE ZONE. Better known by me as THE DAMN ZONE. As in when someone offers me a cookie at work, I politely decline saying, “No thanks, I’m in THE DAMN ZONE.”

D1’s US Navy connection says that many Navy Seals eat on the Zone Diet to achieve maximum performance in their training. The way I see it, between my fitness regimen with the Wii Wii, THE DAMN ZONE and the time I spend at the shooting range, I’ll be ready should the Navy Seals need my assistance for any special ops. And if my call to duty comes when I have PMS like I did this month, I could end the war on terror in 24 hours. Just sayin’.

“Mr. President, I am equal to the task.”

I’ve been giving D1 a lot of crap about taking control of our daily intake but the truth is that as much as I’ve been saying that I want to lose weight, I’ve gotten nowhere in the last year. It was time someone took the bull by the horns. My very first post almost a year ago proclaimed my committment to fitness, weight loss and health improvement. I’ve been dedicated to my fitness routine. I must have the metabolism of a slug because nothing seems to work.

D1 had her hairs cut and hi-lighted yesterday. She went to my stylist, Stacy. She was explaining to Stacy how she has put us all in the Zone. D1 says Stacy was very concerned about my welfare. She said, “Your mom really likes to have a glass of wine at night, can she have that?” I was thrilled to hear that someone has my back.

The answer, in case you’re wondering, is that yes, I CAN have a glass of wine, I just have to be sure to have a slice of turkey and a few nuts too. I can live with that.

The DAMN ZONE may seem a bit extreme but really I’m eating the same things I was eating before but in different portions. The Zone is 30% fat, 30% protein and 40% carbs. Not so bad, it’s just that every time you eat anything, you have to make sure that you have all three components. Kind of like……………..if you give a mouse a cookie………….you have to give him a glass of milk. Only not as good.

I’m not gonna lie. I miss butter. Last night’s shrimp scampi was really good but it would have been bettah with buttah! My butt will be bettah without it and there you have it. The problem is that when I don’t get results, I give up and give in. My stick-to-itiveness has lost its sticky. Does anyone out there have the secret glue that will help me stick to the plan?

On a brighter note: Wii Wii says I’m 34 years old. Of course Wii Wii also says this EVERYDAY:

• You’re obese! And dang if it doesn’t say it very cheerfully. Wii Wii apparently doesn’t know that SMB has a gun and knows how to use it.
• You’re lazy and stupid! OK, what it actually said was, “You’re going to have to work harder and smarter to reach your goal.” Stupid Wii Wii
• You ARE poetry in motion. Suck up!
• I’ve got nothing but respect for your performance. It’s about time I got some respect.
• Too slow. Grrrrr
• You’re taking to this track like you OWN it! Now THAT’s what I’m talkin’ about.

I’ve got a 30 year class reunion (Never mind that I’m only 34 ) at the end of August. Please, Lord! Is it wrong to pray for weight loss? Does it count that I promise to serve my country when the navy seals call? I promise to work for world peace. That’s got to be worth something, right? And just so you know, I don’t have to be super-model thin. Don’t even want to be. I just want to be a better SMB. A more fit SMB. And if you could lift all that sags, I would greatly appreciate it. Amen.

IN THE ZONE

Remember how excited I was that both of our girls would be home for the summer. Daughter #2 has been here since the first of May when spring semester ended at her school. She is now officially a sophomore. Woot!

Daughter #1 arrived home this weekend when school in North Carolina let out for the summer. She completed her first year teaching sixth grade social studies and survived! Woot!

D1 seems to be having some trouble realizing that it’s summer and school is out. I’ve always been supportive of her choice to teach school. But now it seems that has come back to bite me in the butt. Today I received a text message that went something like this:

“How tall are you and what do you weigh?”

What the……..?

“I’m doing The Zone for all of us.”

Really? D1 has been harassing encouraging me to try The Zone Diet for a few years now. I’ve always said not just no but HELL NO politely declined. You see, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried this diet or even heard of it but it’s quite complicated to my way of thinking. D1 insists that it’s very simple. Uh huh…….

When I came home from work, she got out the dry erase board. Think I’m kidding?

She proceeded to explain to My Harley Stud and I just what we would be eating and how much of it. There were blocks and grams and carbs and fats and proteins. My head was spinning. MHS commented that he didn’t think he had enough blocks. She said, you won’t starve on this diet.

He said, “I’m starving NOW and you’ve just started.”

Note to D1: Never give a lecture about nutrition and diet until after your students have eaten.

She explained that everything would need to be measured and weighed. Then she looked at me and said, “We’re pretty much going to have to feed Daddy but I think in the time I’ll be here this summer, he “can” learn.

I said, “Wait, I need to make notes.”

MHS said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure she has handouts.”

“No, not for the class, for my blog!”

After a presentation that lasted longer than an hour, we fixed dinner, a pre-planned non zone meal. We did have some yummy veggies even if we weren’t “in the zone”.

D#2 came in just as we were finishing dinner. D#1 says, “OK, now I want you two to present the material to D2. That will be your test to see if you were listening.”

I looked at MHS, “Test! I didn’t know there would be a test. I WASN’T listening. Crap!” I should have known. This is the same woman who made us take the social studies quiz in her class when we went to NC to visit last fall. (which by the way, we aced)

I made a lame attempt to explain what we had learned. D2 began to complain at what small portions of protein she would have. MHS made his contribution to our presentation by saying, “Eat spinach! You can eat a shitload of spinach!”

And to think how excited I was to have her home. Who knew we were entering the Nazi food camp?

To Wii Wii or to Blog?

Wii Wii won!

:-)

WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO IN THE FIRST PLACE

After much hinting, groveling, begging, whining and purdy pleasing, it turns out that all I had to do to get my beloved Wii was to become a raving lunatic bitch. Who knew it could be so simple? It seems that My Harley Stud and Daughters #1 and #2 put their heads and their wallets together to get me the Wii and Wii Fit for Mother’s Day. I was beyond thrilled and completely surprised. You know how I wanted a Wii. I mean I REALLY wanted a Wii. By now you’re probably as sick of hearing about how much I wanted one as the family was.

After showing my gratitude by jumping around like a hyperactive 4 year old and squealing with delight, Daughter #2 let slip with, “Maybe this will get you out of your mood.” Ahhhh, the modus operandi was revealed. But I didn’t care! I got a Wii!

And you know what! It worked. My evil twin, Skippy, has left the building.

So far, I’ve been insulted, injured and humiliated by this gaming unit. And.I.Love.It! I think I’m addicted. You may never hear from me again.

If I’d known that’s all it took to get what I wanted, I would have put on my bitch suit a long time ago.

SHINY NEW GYM=SHINY NEW ME?

I recently switched gyms to accommodate my ever-increasing need to shake my booty. The gym that I joined is a national chain and my membership allows me to visit any location in the US. Keep that in mind when MHS and I show up on our Harley at your doorstep begging for a place to stay. I need to stay fit on my roadtrips, ya know. Last week the chain opened a new location just for me. ……I knooowww! That’s what I thought. It’s right on my way to or from work. I have no excuses now. Geesh.

Today I tried out the new location. First, it smells good. That’s very important to me. I’m a smelly broad. I like things to smell good and at the gym, that’s not always a given. It was clean and all the equipment was shiny.

I met a new friend in the locker room. She told me all about how she comes to the gym for cardio but goes to a fancy (read EXPENSIVE) pilates spa in one of those botanical garden malls that are so popular in this area. Each class is $20. She goes 3 times a week. She was talking it up like a sales rep. (She wasn’t a sales rep) She told me all about how the core exercises have changed her life and promised they could do the same for me. Apparently she didn’t see the hole in my t-shirt. Spending $60 a week on pilates isn’t going to happen until I get my government bailout package. What? Isn’t that what the bank execs did? They went to a spa.

I missed the beginning of the mat pilates class because I was making new friends in the locker room so I went straight to my old friend, the elliptical. I jumped on, queued my ipod to my gym playlist and I was like an exercise animal. Believe that? Nah, I didn’t think so.

So I’m chugging along and all of a sudden I hear talking in the background of my music. A rhythmic sing-song of words that didn’t seem to go with the song and I’m thinking, “I don’t remember this part.” Then the next song had that same background voice talking. I look over to my right and there is a woman with headphones in her hears chatting away. I think, “This crazy woman is talking to her ipod.” And suddenly it occurs to me that her ipod is actually an iphone and she is giving a lecture having a conversation with some poor schmuck a friend. And she goes on and on and on and on.

Because I’m a grown-up I know how to handle these situations. I turned up my volume and began to jam to my favorite tunes on my own ipod-nonphone.

When it got to the part, “Everybody look left, everybody look right”, I did. And she was gone. I might have been singing. If you ever want to clear a room, call me.

And now peeps, it’s time for Jack. And nothing comes between me and my black ops hero.

THE GRINGA IN THE BACK

After the talk I had with myself on Monday, there was no getting around going to the gym after work. I’m usually able to get out of the office on Mondays at a reasonable time and make it to my favorite class, Latin Impact. It’s basically aerobic dance exercise using Latin music and Latin moves. The class is taught by a very nice woman who is incredibly fit and probably close to my age. English is her second language and most of the class is taught in Spanish. That’s OK with me because I’m fluent understand directional queues in Spanish like right, left, forward, back, look, Not that way, STUPID!

I didn’t make it to class last week but after taking this class the week before, I couldn’t walk without pain for three days. Yet another indication of how badly out of shape I am.

I should probably point out here that I have a fair amount of rhythm, I can dance. I’ve taken a few dance classes, performed in the Dolphin’s half-time show, had a part as a party guest in the Nutcracker which required dancing, etc. I’m not completely without any dance ability. Until.it.comes.to.Latin.moves. Ay Caramba! My hips just don’t want to move like that.

The class starts and I’m smiling, happy to be out of the office, and feel good about taking that first step to get back on the diet/exercise wagon. The instructor is a natural. She starts with the warm up and the hips are going. I’m enjoying myself and feeling pretty good about being able to keep up even if the hips aren’t cooperating. The class progresses into the cardio segment. She’s taking us all around the room, right, left, back and forth, diagonally forward and back, turning around. Oh yeah, Ms. Tiny Dancer loves to make us turn around and around to the point that I’m almost dizzy. The worst part about turning around is the wall of windows. I always stand in the back. I don’t mind if I laugh at me but I would hate to have to hurt someone don’t want others laughing at me. So around and around we go and don’t think for a minute that there aren’t men people suddenly lined up to use the machines right by the window. I smile as I turn because I’ll be damned if I’m going to show that I have no idea what I’m doing even though it’s quite obvious I’m nice like that.

By the middle of the class, I’m still smiling but I’ve figured out that leftover roasted brussel sprouts aren’t the thing to eat for lunch on Latin Impact Monday. I’ve figured out that the teacher doesn’t have a plan. I don’t think she has choreographed this class. But she has developed a strategy. “As soon as the gringa in the back figures out what we’re doing, change it.”

And as if it’s not bad enough that I’m the only one in the class whose hips can’t move independently from the rest of her body, I’ve got what appears to be blonde Cheryl Burke (Dancing with the Stars) right in front of me. The problem with having “Cheryl” in front of me is that I’m competitive a follower inspired by greatness. Having this woman in front of me raises the bar. I’m trying harder. And it ain’t pretty.

At one point in the class we were expected to shake our booty in a circular motion really fast while waiving our arms in the air in a opposite circular motion. What the……? While this might be attractive in a hip-hop sort of way on a young girl with a cute booty, on me……….not so much.It’s like that old pat your head and rub your belly sort of thing. I’m sure I could get it if they slowed it down to a waltz tempo but seriously….? Not happening. Let me tell you there is nothing sadder than a white girl desperately trying to shake her booty, waive her arms, while burping roasted brussel sprouts, attempting to do it with style like “Cheryl” and smile at the boys thru the window because everybody knows, “You never let em see you sweat”. Alas, the sweat, the terror on my face, and the complete lack of Latin vibe was all too obvious.

By the end of the class, I was no longer smiling, I didn’t care what the boys thought, I hated Cheryl and I was thinking very mean thoughts about Ms. Tiny Dancer. I stared at the clock, willing it to move faster so I could be done with this whole mess.

The class was finally over. Ms. Tiny Dancer thanked us for coming, praised us for doing such a good job and told us we were very smart women to be able to follow her directions. It’s amazing what a few nice words can do. I’ll be back next Monday. It’s my favorite class.

ONE DAY AT A TIME, MY ARSE! I want it NOW!

By now, you've probably seen the cover of this week's People magazine. You know the one with little Valerie Bertinelli, the girl we all loved in One Day at a Time. She is 48 now, soon to be 49 years old and revealed her smokin' hot, new body, in a bikini no less, on the cover. Yeah, I hate her. But seriously, good for her. This struck a chord with me because we are the same age. Well, she's a bit older. *smirk*

Ironically the People magazine arrived in my office mailbox yesterday: The very same day that I woke up, took one look in the mirror and said, "Who the hell are you?" I didn't recognize the face staring back at me. I look like crap! There are bags under my eyes that you could pack for a month long vacation. There are lines on my face that would give MapQuest a run for its money. I don't even want to talk about my grey roots. Does anyone know how to get your hair to stop growing? Oh and let's not forget the mini me that's attached itself to my mid-section. Oh yeah, there's a whole other person cohabitating with my body. I've got proof. Just look at the scale. Wait! Stop! You're just going to have to take my word for it on that. Bottom line: I've come to the realization that I'm no longer pushing forty. I'm draggin it.

It took a while but I finally got over the shock of this over-night transformation, (Don't tell me it didn't happen overnight. That's my story and I'm stickin to it.) So I sat myself down and had a talk with myself. It went something like this:

Me: "Damn, girl! You've really let yourself go."

Me also: "Go where? Where are we going? "

*Apparently the new me is not only a wreck, she's also stupid. Grrr.*

Me: "We've got to do something about this. What do you propose that we do?"

Me also: "I like donuts. Can we go get donuts?"

Me: "That's it. You're going back to the gym today! You're going back on the South Beach Diet" There is no excuse for a woman your age to let herself go like this, Do you hear me, Soldier?"

Me also: "Does that mean we can't stop at Dunkin Donuts? Not even for a muffin?"

Me: "You are really thick, you know it?"

So then I get to the office and see cutesy, little Ms. Bertinelli on the cover. That might have p*ssed off a weaker woman. Not me! It just strengthened my resolve. If VB can do it by her 49^th birthday, by gosh, so can I. *Oh dear Lord, have I lost my mind?*

I've got until December 2009 to literally get my rear in gear. I'm going to start drinking more water and less wine beer coffee. I'm going to get more rest. I'm going to hit the gym or exercise elsewhere vigorously 4-5 times a week. I am going to follow the South Beach Diet because it works for me when I actually follow it. I'm not saying that I'll be modeling any bikini come December but mark my words:

I will be a smaller, fitter, crankier happier Smart Mouth Broad.

And I'll be doing it all…….One Day at a Time.

NAMASTE

I made it to Yoga (aka Yogurt class) today. You might have heard me mention that I joined a new gym because it offered more classes and was closer to my office making it more difficult for me to talk myself out of going on the 30 second drive there. I left my office early today to try the yoga class. I have very little experience with yoga but there are a few things I know for sure:

1. Yoga is harder than it looks.
   
2. I am wound up tighter than a top.
   
3. It's not acceptable to laugh out loud at yourself when you can't assume the pose. (I learned this lesson the hard way.)
   
4. Yoga improves your flexibility and that is something that we all need to work on as we get older.
   
5. It's hard for me to remain silent for an hour.
   
6. There are some positions that this body just doesn't want to assume no matter how much I will it to go there.
   
7. Yoga reminds me of a very somber hokey pokey and that makes me laugh which is of course…..is not tolerated.
   
8. It's hard to ignore belly fat when your nose is in your navel.
   
9. If you let me lie there for too long, I'm going to fall asleep.
   
10. It's hard to find your inner peace when you had to cut off two cars and scare the crap out of three pedestrians to make it to class on time.
    

There are a lot of things I need to know about yoga but we'll start with just 10: (Braja, are you out there?)

1. What in the name of stretch pants and bottled water is a chakra and why does it have so many colors?
   
2. Will it eventually become clear to me how to breathe AND twist myself into a pretzel at the same time?
   
3. Is it considered bad form to yell BOOYAH when you finally make it to the toes you've been reaching toward for an hour?
   
4. Don't be fooled by the title of this post. I have no idea what that word means. So?……….. what does it mean?
   
5. It does get easier, right?
   
6. Is it possible that maybe yoga just isn't for everyone? (Even though I really want to do this.)
   
7. What makes yoga pants…..yoga pants?
   
8. When people say "hot yoga", are they referring to the temperature in the room or the participants in the class?
   
9. Why "hot yoga"?
   
10. Is there something that I should know but I'm so clueless that I don't even know to ask?
    

If you are a yoga instructor, take yoga classes, or stumbled in a class once and can answer any or all of my questions, please leave a comment here. If you are as clueless as I am, please tell me that too. I don't like to walk alone.

WHAT IS A BANDWAGON? And why is it so easy to fall off?

I jumped on the traditional January bandwagon today………………..backwards. Technically, I guess I jumped off. At a time when millions are flocking to gyms and weight loss centers everywhere; I canceled my gym membership. Yes, I did. I walked in sans exercise equipment and signed my name on the dotted line. There is a thirty day notice policy in effect that allows me to continue not working out until February 15^th but officially, I am no longer a member.

You may or may not remember that my motivation for establishing this blog was to create a place where I could hold myself accountable by proclaiming my successes and failures publicly in my quest for better fitness, a more youthful appearance and most importantly arse removal. If you are a new reader or don't remember that post, you can click here to see what I had to say in my very first blog post. Since that time, I have posted about a few of my gym experiences, and discussed my diet regimen or lack thereof occasionally but for the most part, this blog has become more about my nonsensical life and all the joys that lie therein. I'm OK with that. It is what it is.

That being said, I still feel the burden that is finding the ever-elusive fit me, the healthy me, dare I say the smaller version of me that is out there somewhere, I just know it. Someone told me that they saw her at Whole Foods but by the time I got there, she was GONE! **sigh**

Here is the real deal:

• In the three years that I have been working out on a regular basis (with the exception of the holiday season this year) I have basically gotten nowhere. I lost and gained weight throughout and in the end can say with pride frustration that I am ten pounds lighter than I was when I started. Not good enough. I guess it's better than finding myself ten pounds heavier but three years! Come on!
  
• I want/need to find a diet that is as much about changing my eating habits as it is about losing weight. I have no interest in going on a temporary fad diet because history shows, the weight just comes back. I understand that in order to lose weight the caloric consumption must be more restrictive now and will loosen up a bit for a maintenance plan. I think I will be going back to the South Beach Diet because it's healthy and it includes all the food groups. I am a foodie and cannot will not cut any one food group out of my diet. SBD does restrict carbs but eventually you add them back in measured doses.
  
• My workout has become stale. I know that I enjoy classes more than working out independently but my old gym's class offerings didn't accommodate my schedule. It caters more to the stay at home mom, the senior citizens and the independently wealthy crowd. Every time they try to open an after-normal working hours class, it is poorly attended (meaning I'm the only one who shows up) and is eventually canceled.
  
• There is another gym near my office that offers multiple evening classes. It is a national chain. They have another location not too far from my house should the desire strike me for a weekend workout. The membership is the same price as my old gym. I'm not sure what the time commitment is.
  
• I have a treadmill in my bedroom that currently serves as a clothes hanger. The motor needs to be replaced. I can't imagine this repair would be too costly.
  
• I get the Fit Tv channel, I have a dvd player and I own several exercise videos. The problem with working out at home is that I always think that I will do it later and later never seems to happen.
  
• I've always wanted to be a runner but since our trip out West on the bikes last year, my knees have aged to 78 while I have only progressed to the ripe old age of none of your business. Osteo BiFlex wants to be my friend but I keep forgetting to take the darn pills.
  

I have to do something and it really should be now. Time is slipping by fast and it's already been over a month since I've exercised. Sadly my eating habits have gone to hell in a hand-basket too. It seems that the whole world is telling me to get up off my arse and just do it. People magazine showed three women on their cover that lost half their body weight. Thankfully, I don't have that much to lose. So why is it so hard for me to stick to a plan? I get at least 10 emails a day on my blackberry telling me to lose weight and exercise. Well, maybe not in those exact words.

Geri over at New Wrinkles did a recent post where she tells just how important exercise is to the aging process. New Wrinkles is a blog dedicated to giving important information on all sorts of health topics. It seems some people feel it's a better use of their time to actually give helpful information on their blog instead of the (almost) daily dose of silliness you find here. **wink**

So, peeps! Any suggestions? What's a girl to do? Are you frustrated too? Have you found the answer? I'm not talking resolutions here. What's your plan to get into shape? Or have you just decided that being fat and sassy ain't all that bad?

Oh and today I read over at Bear Naked that Physical Fitness helps your brain! SIGN.ME.UP! I need all the help I can get in that department. This case of Midlife Distraction is killing me.

HIP HOP BOOTY for beginners

It was back to Hip Hop Booty after work today. I have to tell you: THIS.CLASS.IS.SO.MUCH.FUN. The class is led by P & J. Their styles are completely different and yet both awesome. They are really good sports as well. I spoke to them prior to class and explained that I blog and wanted to take pictures. I even asked them to show off a little extra for the camera. After answering several questions (like: Do you do it for a company? NO. Do you do it for money? NO. How many hits do you get in a day? Oh...uh...thousands. *cough, cough, cough* Why do you do it? I have absolutely no idea but I love it.) They promised that they would show off for me but not tonight. You see, P is preparing for some sort of fitness competition and was completely wiped out. He said he would just be consulting and not teaching tonight. That and the fact that we are working on creating a new dance and because of all the starts and stops, it didn't make for good video. But not one to be easily discouraged, I did video anyway.

The class is made up mostly of young girls but I'm not always the oldest. Believe me when I say that I am NO GOOD at hip hop but I am improving. It's great exercise and really fun. Still, there are some moves that this tired old body just won't do. And when I try, well....it's just not pretty.

Tonight, we worked on some choreography that broke us into two groups and my group was shooting at the other group. After all the crap I've given Nole Boy for the last week about listening to thug rap, I felt like a bit of a hypocrite. I'm still no fan of the song we were using but as they used to say in American Bandstand, "It has a good beat and you can dance to it."

The video is of the same choreography we've been working on for the last few weeks but now it's slowed down and to a different song. It is supposed to help you build your skills to slow down the steps. It is more difficult to do it slowly. This was prior to the shoot 'em up that we did at the end of class. Once P gets back from competition, I'll get P&J to really show their stuff for you. Until then, here is a not so good sample of the class. As you will see, P couldn't keep himself from dancing a bit once the music started.

To what lengths will you go to embarrass yourself for the sake of fitness?

SPINNING AND SPIRALING DOWNWARD

I made it to spin this morning on time. I chose a bike near the back because the people in the front are just so intense. A few more people filtered in after me but the class was only about half full. This didn't really seem to be a problem until the class started. The problem was that there was no one in front of me which for all intents and purposes meant I was the front row. Uh oh! I'm new to this spinning thing. I don't need to have the instructor having a beeline view of my posture, huffing and puffing, lack of proper form and the extra breaks necessary to keep me from having a stroke. I kept praying that more people would come as the class progressed. Where were the Barbies? Where were the athletes?

I did the best I could but to be honest, my best was not so good today. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't get up early enough to have breakfast or even coffee. Maybe it's because morning is not really when I'm at my peak performance. I'm much more energized in the afternoon. Maybe it just wasn't my day. But whatever it was, spin kicked my butt today.

As usual, the room was dark and the disco ball was spinning. My shoes, headband and sportsbra were glowing from the black light. This made it easy for me to spot myself in the mirror and observe my lack of good posture. Robin, the instructor, played lame (in my opinion) 80s music today. Is there anyone (besides Robin, apparently) who likes this stuff! Oh, gosh, I'm starting to sound like an old woman!

Now, Robin is an amazing specimen of a woman and normally her energy and stamina is enough to motivate me to work myself into a spinning frenzy. Today… not so much. I worked hard though, believe me. Once again, we peddled ourselves silly all while punching, reaching, climbing, rowing and then peddling one leg at a time. But today, I found myself mocking Robin in my head. At one point, she said something about getting ready to jump. I'm thinking, "Jump! There's no jumping in spinning!" (said in my head like the line in A League of Their Own). And dang if she didn't hear me because we didn't ever do anything that resembled jumping. This scared me because now I'm thinking Robin has super powers and can hear what I'm thinking. And my thoughts were not all that kind. I was cranky, unmotivated and just plain rebellious. Another problem was that as I mentioned earlier, she could see me clearly. So while she may not have been talking directly to me, it sure seemed like it. She kept saying things like, "Pull your stomach in.", " Straighten your posture.", " Move, move, MOVE!" and "Faster, faster!"

So now, I'm worried that with her apparent super powers she can hear my mental replies to her commands. I'm thinking things like, "Listen, here, skinny b*tch!" and "I AM moving, are you blind!" and "Maybe if you didn't have this lala music to a crappy beat, I might be more inclined to pump it up a little more".

The class concluded, I thanked Robin for a great class (because I'm polite like that) and walked out feeling a bit defeated.

I think I'm PMSing.

And to add insult to injury, I walked into MHS's office upon my return home and he said, "Man, you don't look good." Thanks, JackASS.

HOLDING MYSELF ACCOUNTABLE

A week or so ago, I walked into the local supermarket and witnessed a little boy hopping onto the scales. He was very excited as he told his father, "Look, Daddy, I'm 40 pounds!" All I could think was "Oh my gawd! I have to lose a four year old!" Well, I'm pleased to say that after a change in diet and exercise, I now only have to lose a three year old.

It was about six weeks ago that I started this blog. I was mortified motivated by the proclamation of my physician that I was indeed no longer a spring chicken. After I recovered from the shock of that statement, I sat myself down and made a list of goals and then posted them on the internet for all the world to see, thinking that maybe this might help to keep me on track. So in the spirit of accountability, it's time to see just how far I've come.

The original goals listed were as follows:

• Lose weight or grow taller – no luck on the growing taller but as of this morning, I have lost a total of 13lbs. (more than 25% of my weight loss goal)
  
• Improve my fitness level – I've taken up spinning classes and I'm still trying to make it back to iron bodies. I find that while I have been working out at the gym independently for over 2 years, a drill sergeant instructor motivates me to work harder and challenge myself.
  
• Lower my blood pressure – Turns out that the blood-pressure reading was most likely a false high brought on by the utter excitement (NOT) and anticipation of my lower-body inspection.
  
• Eat a healthy diet and practice portion control – I started the South Beach Diet, (loosely) I stay in phase I because I never seem to make it thru the two weeks without cheating. If I wasn't losing weight, I would tighten up my restrictions but I prefer to be strict most of the time and have fun on the weekends. Almost daily, I visit Kalyn's Kitchen for recipe ideas.
  
• Lose weight (I thought it might help to list this one twice - Sometimes I need a reminder, it's that mental pause thing.
  
• Blog all about it – obviously.
  
• Define myself as "at that age when……I am energetic, fit, healthy and lovin' life! – I may not be there yet but definitely working in the right direction! Step by step, I'm gettin' there.
  

I've learned a few things along this journey too:

• Readers have told me that I inspire them with my little successes and determination.
  
• I don't need chocolate as much as I thought I did. (At least most of the time)
  
• Friendship is not about geography.
  
• I can still be a foodie and make healthy, delicious dishes for my family.
  
• When I go on a diet, MHS loses weight!
  
• I really need to invest in a better, more supportive sports bra if I plan to continue to spin. You want your legs to go at the speed of light but not your uh, well, you know. It's not pretty. Recommendations, anyone?
  
• The support and encouragement of friends and family is key to your success. So, friends, care to join me on this quest for fitness? It's more fun with buddies!
  

THE ONGOING QUEST FOR FITNESS

I overslept this morning. Without an alarm clock, I usually will wake between 6:00 and 7:00am on weekends. I don't always get my lazy butt out of bed then but I'm awake. Last night before going to bed, I decided that I would once again try try to make the IRON BODIES class at 8:30am. I didn't bother to set my alarm. I knew that I would wake in time to make it there. Best laid plans.... So when I awoke at 8:10am (it's a 15-20 minute drive to the gym depending on traffic lights), I decided I would try the 9:30am spinning class.

Some of my friends and D1 have all told me that I should try the spinning class but to date, I've been intimidated. I am often trudging along on the elliptical machine which is located just outside of the spinning room. It's dark in there. It's loud. People come out of there looking like roadkill. I guess I was feeling a little adventurous today. Or maybe I just lost my mind!

I arrived a few minutes late. I checked with the very friendly woman at the front desk to see if the instructor is OK with late comers. She said, "oh, yeah, she's fine. Just go on in." With water bottle and towel in hand, I entered the classroom. Class was already in progress so it was dark. In my rush to get out of the house, I neglected to put in my contacts. (No animals or Palm Beachers were harmed on my journey to the gym. My eyesight isn't that bad. It's just the little compact cars that I have trouble seeing.) As I looked around my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. There were several stationery bikes (obviously), a disco ball, mirrors on the walls and the instructor was on a platform shouting out commands into her headset. I was able to make out a few empty bikes and immediately saw that the class was divided into groups. The Palm Beach Barbies were all in front with short shorts and sports bras showing off their beautiful bodies and even in the darkness, I could see they had great tans. The young and athletic group was in the middle. They looked very intense. The old broads were in the back. I quickly determined my place in the class, walked right up to the front, stripped off my tshirt, showing off my 6pack (ok, 12pack) abs and began to peddle like nobody's business. Just call me Barbie's friend, Midge. NOT!

I chose the bike in the back closest to me so that I could make a quick exit if necessary. A voice in the dark told me that bike was fine but the one on the other side of her had a cupholder for my waterbottle. Cupholders are a big thing with me. I will buy a car based on how many cupholders it has. Where was I, again? Oh yeah. Obviously I chose the bike with the cupholder but was quick to notice it was near the fire exit in case things got rough. Now, I don't know if you've ever been to a spinning class before but it is WOW! Like I said the class was already in progress so I just jumped on the bike and tried to keep up. I always wondered what the big deal was just riding a bike. Well, you stand up, sit down, do push ups, punch, row, dance all while you are peddling. The music is very motivating. It was a great mix of hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. At one point, there was an AC/DC song that's chorus sounded a lot like "f___ you, f___ you?" I didn't think that was really necessary. Afterall, I was doing my best. We went on to peddle with one leg at a time, then went back to the stand up, sit down, pushup only faster and in a combo. I like choreography. I can work with that.

The instructor, Robin, was great. I think she is near my age, give or take a few years but she looks FABULOUS! She is my new fitness role model! It was a great work-out. I think I actually enjoyed it. I worked really hard and really hope that I can walk tomorrow. I didn't keep up with the Barbies. I didn't keep up with the young athletes. I didn't really even keep up with the old broads (but it wasn't their first class) But I stayed to the end and worked my tail off. (I hope) I almost had fun. I thanked Robin for the class and walked out feeling like a new woman.