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Thursday, May 23, 2013

And Sometimes...You Just Wish Your Arms Would Fall Off

Y'all.

I did my first official work-out with a trainer today.  Which means that I'm not really typing this post.  I'm using my Jedi mind powers to manipulate the keyboard because my arms are in full-on rebellion right now.

My trainer is awesome and he decided (as made obvious by the title) that I needed a little work on my arms/upper body area.  And well...I knew I was out of shape but OH  MY WORD THE BURNING!!! 

When it was all over, I was a sweating, quivering mass of Jell-O.  I didn't cry and I didn't toss my cookies...but I may have said the Lord's name out loud once or twice.

In reverent prayer, of course.  As in, "Oh Jesus.  JE-sus.  JAY-SUS!!!  FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY TAKE MY ARMS! TAKE 'EM LORD! They've been good to me!  They don't deserve all this abuse!  Do whatever is in Thy Holy Will to do with them just MAKE IT STOP!"

(Ok so maybe that was a little bit extreme and I didn't quite go there...but I wanted to.)

However sore my body may be...the thing is, I did it.  And everytime my body said "Girl...you gon' hafta put a stop to this!  We cain't do this!" I just remembered all the OTHER times my body said I couldn't...but I did.

Due an issue with my knee, I've decided to walk the 5k instead of run and lower the impact so as not to do major damage.  So instead of walk/shuffle/walk I'm just walking.

But I'm walking longer and faster to compensate.  I'm up to 30 minutes at a 3.7 mph clip.  After that I've been hopping on to the elliptical for a 20 minute fat-burner session.  Hopefully next week I'll be able to up my walking speed to almost 4 mph and do more time on the elliptical.

Plus the personal trainer work-outs.

It sounds like a lot, and it is...but I'm so determined to see this through.  I've been off the sodas for about 6 weeks now, and I've been working out for three weeks.  I lost another pound this week but more than that...I'm defeating the voices in my head that keep saying I can't.

Because y'all...Yes. I. Can.  And the more I do it, the more my confidence grows.  Each workout does more to chip away at the feelings of shame and defeat for having let myself get to this point.

I'm doing it.

I'll bet you can do it too.

Rotating on Mimi's playlist this week:

Revolution on the Dance Floor - I don't know who recorded this.  My kids downloaded it.
California Gurls - Katy Perry
Bring It On - Lenny Kravitz
American Idiot- Green Day
So What - P!nk
Live and Let Die - GnR
Back in Black - AC/DC
Mama's Broken Heart - Miranda Lambert
What Was I Thinkin' - Dierks Bentley
Last Dance With Mary Jane - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers


Thursday, May 16, 2013

I Don't Have A Title For This Post

I know.  Butterbean and I are all about keepin' it classy on the blog.

That and I just didn't have any titles that were doin' it for me, ya know?

So...remember the other day when I was all "Oh I don't know how much I weigh, I'm not worried about the number on the scale" and all that?

You don't?  What...you don't think my issues with my weight is riveting blog material?

Whatevs.  Just pretend you're interested.

Anyhoo last Thursday I ventured out to the Walmarts and bought myself a scale .  And it only took an hour of some serious prayer and fasting before I figured out how to turn the thing on.  I am all sorts of what the young folks call...tech savvy.

I hopped on the scale and the number was (embarrassingly enough) 2...1...4.  YIKES!  At 5'4" I should only weigh somewhere in the 125-135 range.  That's roughly 90 pounds of extra baggage.

ERMAHGERRD I've been carrying around the equivalent of an 8th grade physics nerd for the past 20 years!  Complete with pocket protector and horn-rimmed glasses!

(No offense to all you physics nerds out there.  You guys are neat-o!  And smarter than me!)

So yeah...that day was kind of a bummer...but I didn't let it get me down too much.  I kept to the plan...I hopped back on the treadmill Monday and stepped up my game.  2 minutes of brisk walking and 90 seconds of jogging.  To say that my body went into shock over Truffle Shuffling for 90 seconds straight would be like saying the Pope is Catholic.  It's sort of an understatement.

First my calves started in with "Ummm hey lady...things are starting to heat up down here.  How's about dialing it down just a hair?"

When that didn't work my knees started in with, "Hey...we're getting seriously ANNOYED with you and your exercising shenanigans."

My lungs couldn't talk to me because they were busy huffing and puffing, but I could sense they were somewhat put out.

But I didn't listen to them.  Oh no.  I just kept imagining I was that firework that Katy whatshername keeps singing about.  I couldn't really help that.  She was singing in my ear so...what was I to do?

Then I thought about what it would be like to just be able to listen to some music and bust a few moves without seriously endangering myself or others around me.  I imagined myself in a sparkly outfit dancing and glittering across the stage and my spare tire spoke up and was all, "Easy there Beyonce ...two things are wrong with that scenario.  1) You have no rhythm and 2) You have no rhythm."

But I just rolled my eyes and kept on shuffling.  And then...I weighed myself again on Tuesday.

The number on the scale said 2...0...9!  5 pounds in 4 days.

Y'all...when I saw that I broke into some dancing that would have made BeyoncĂ© cry.  Or cringe.  I don't know which because 5 POUNDS! MIMI LOST 5 POUNDS!

Yeah.  It was what you might call...A Moment.  The first of many I'm sure.

That 8th grade Physics nerd is goin' down!

Monday, May 13, 2013

Jesus Jukin' The Gym

You all may remember that last week I began an exercise routine known as the Couch-5K.

Or as I like to call it, Death On A Treadmill.

The first time wasn't bad.  I actually left the gym feeling like a boss, because I'd managed to do the thing and you know...not die.

On Tuesday and Wednesday last week I didn't do the workout, I just walked.  Then Thursday rolled around and I went back to the gym.  I popped my earbuds in and stepped on to the treadmill to do my version of the Truffle Shuffle,  and my body was all, "Whoa. Wait...what?  Didn't you do this Monday?  Why do we need to do this again?  Don't tell me you're gonna make me do this for reals!"

I was all, "Shut up.  Just stop talking to me.  I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson, and she says that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

To which my body replied, "Keep shuffling lady and I can make that happen."

But I prevailed.  I showed my body that I was the boss of it and not the other way around.  And then something strange happened...I began noticing a phenomenon that normally doesn't happen to me unless I'm in church and the preaching is particularly fiery and brimstoney-ish.

I was sweating.

It was oh so lovely to behold.  In a smelly sort of way. 

Friday I went back for more.  My body began the usual arguments which then turned to pleading, and finally...to bargaining.  But I wasn't having it.  No ma'am.

I'll admit that it was a little difficult for me to get over how I must appear to everyone else who was working out.  But I looked over to the right of me to the skinny Minnie who was climbing the stairs endlessly...only she was sidestepping her way up the stairs.  She looked just as sweaty and ridiculous as I did.  She caught my eye and by unspoken agreement, we looked tactfully away from each other and didn't fall off our machines laughing at our silly selves.

I took comfort in the fact that she probably felt more uncomfortable than I did.

Plus, I had unwittingly and single-handedly Jesus Juked the entire joint.

(Pretend that was a really smooth segue into what I'm about to tell you)

Years ago I participated in the March for Jesus.  For those of you who may not remember, some people got together and thought Jesus wasn't being worshipped enough in public, so they came up with the March for Jesus.  And they sold t-shirts.  A friend of mine gave me one and I love it because it's soft and gi-normous.  I had grabbed it for my work-out Friday morning and didn't really realize what I was doing until after.

It has a picture of Jesus and the Crown of Thorns on the front.  On the back it says, "He walked for me, so I'll walk for Him."

Thereby informing everyone around me that this is not just a work-out for pleasure...oh no my young muscle-bound friends.  I was there on a mission from God. (Name that movie!)

Now, if only Jesus and the Father did the Truffle Shuffle.  It would make my suffering on this earth so very worthwhile.  (Stop looking at me like that Holy Rollers!  I'M JUST KIDDING!)

Monday, May 6, 2013

Time For A Change

I love the color green y'all.  It's one of my favorites...but honestly, with this new season of life that I'm in...I was getting a little tired of it.


So...TA-DA!!!  How do you like it?  I think it's pretty cool.  The posts are a little easier to read...the blue fuzzy background reminds me of summertime and well...I like it.  So you have to like it too.  Because hey...my blog...my rules.

You might also want to take note of the added page at the top...Mimi's Movin' and Groovin.'

Cause y'all...I have passed the stage of being  pleasingly plump.  You can read all about the whys and wherefores and what's up with that's on the page, but basically, I'm tired of being old, worn-out, and fat.

I can't do anything about the first thing, but I can certainly work on the other two.  All those old fears of "but I'll look ridiculous working out with all those skinny people" are being shot down with dosages of truth.  Because the truth is...I can't look much more ridiculous than I do now.  And it's only going to get worse with time, neglect, and gravity.

Besides...everybody's got their battles.  That cute little 20-year old stick that's sweating out her soul on that stair master like she's Tallahassee searching for his all-elusive Twinkie?  Honey, she could be fighting financial troubles, depression, family stuff, hassles at work, or...maybe she's like me and dealing with a body image/health issue.  Or maybe it's just zombies.  WHO KNOWS?

We all have our issues y'all...some are just better disguised than others.  So why should I be concerned with how I look in front of someone who has her own personal brand of crazy to deal with?

Yep.  That's what I thought.

So...a new look, a new journey, and...da da da da...a new grand-baby. 

Thaaaaaat's right y'all...I'm 'boutta be a Mimi again!  Come September, Butterbean's gonna have a baby brother...so I've got to think up a moniker for him.  Maybe Butternut? Butterscotch?  Butterfinger?  I dunno.  Some things just can't be forced.  Some things require contemplation and the alignment of certain heavenly bodies...and a really good bottle of wine.

OH I KID.

I can't afford wine.

Well..y'all that about wraps it up for me today.  Keep the 'Bean in your prayers...because one of her issues is being the ONE AND ONLY.  We'll see how that works out for her this fall.

Should be more fun than fighting a herd of bloodthirsty zombies.