WHAT!?!?!

What in the hell does the V STEP HAVE TO DO WITH ABS!!! Tell me! Kat and the Cruch Crew - you are so ON MY LIST! You and your freaking V STEP!!! ARGGGGHHH!

Working Through the Pain

The fitness videos seem to be doing their job as I am remarkably sore. Not sore like, "Wow, I really worked my muscles," but sore like, "Wow, I can't walk." And I am not sore in the places I think I should be sore. Take, for example, the bicep curls. One would think that the bicep curls would result in my biceps being sore. Nope. My armpits are though. And my leg joints as well as the balls of my feet. But hey! It's a good burn!

I am up early to try another video. This time I am going for "Ab Attack." It has a false promise that I am totally falling for.

You Have GOT to be Kidding Me

I may have to re-think this fitness video plan. Firstly, even though all the blinds were down, I felt like the neighbors could see my turkey drumstick legs and chicken wing arms flailing all over the place. Secondly, the videos made me feel like I never completed YEARS of gymnastics, or YEARS of yoga, or even YEARS of step aerobics. That's right, step aerobics. My coordination was way off on simple things like the bunny hop and even more off on difficult items like the v-step. The v-step was a step out with arms going up like a v but for Rebecca, that translated to the physical equivalent of quantum electro dynamics. If physics were in action form, it would be fitness DVD’s. When the leader called out, “Make sure to have control over those abdominal muscles,” I couldn’t help but to think to myself that my abdominal muscles went out for a pack of cigarettes four years back and never returned. The abdominal muscles were replaced by a cookie dough receptacle, which is not as attractive but has had severe staying power. And what is this control thing I keep hearing? If I had control over any form of my life, and that includes my floundering limbs and muscles, I wouldn’t be on this little mission to run a marathon. Duh Kami, you oh so attractive fitness leader, how could you not know that? I think you should take your control, your little tiny shorts, your toned arms, and shove it.

Who am I kidding? Tami, I’ll see you tomorrow for exercise number two.

The Wo-man with the Plan

Given that the winter is frigidly cold and has been preventing me from proper training, I've decided to take action. Indoor action. I've added about ten fitness DVD's to my Netflix queue focusing on those that play instantly. One is even a two-volume set for New York City Ballet exercises. I am sure that these workout DVD’s will help fulfill my childhood desire to be a ballerina (if only they had fitness DVD's on how to be a gymnast and astronaut). With a plan like this, how can I not be in tip-top shape for the October marathon?

Show Business

I really like my job. Why, you ask - because I work with the mother of Michaela Conlin, Angela from Bones. That's right, I am this close (picture my pointer and thumb an inch apart) to Angel. In addition, Denise, Michaela's mama, was nice enough to bring in a Bones picture for me. How cool is that? Right up there with Bill Nye the Science Guy and the twist. When I first learned this information, I was so excited and said, "Denise, this is fantastic, may I shake your hand?" She seemed more honored than I did. And believe me, I was honored that she didn't think I was crazy.

Things That Make You Go Ew

Since the snowfall and the return of the cat, they're all I can talk about. I know it seems crazy but I'm a little obsessed right now and hey, obsession happens. Today I came home super late from work because, get this, it was snowing and low and behold, the cat had thrown up all over my guy's favorite chair. The five hundred dollar "dot" chair that he purchased when we moved here. That's right, I said my boyfriend has a polka dot chair and he gladly paid five hundred big ones for it. So I frantically hung up on my mom and tried to clean up the yucky, yucky, oh so yucky yellow goo that somehow was in three sections all over the chair and floor. Just as I cleaned a spot, I found another. And then another. And then (oh god, don't let me say it) I saw something that looked like string in the last pile of vomit. I got a little closer and no, it wasn't string, it was spaghetti. Wait, we don't have any spaghetti in the house. That's when I realized... I was holding a worm between my fingers that the cat had thrown up. EWWWWW! I put it in a little plastic baggy and called the vet who told me to come down with the cat, the spaghetti worm, and a sample of her stool. Yummy. So I did and to be honest, it was a quick fix - a couple minutes in the vet hospital for a weigh in (she's eight pounds, thanks very much) and two syringes of worm killer. When I got home, I sprayed the entire house with Lysol and washed my hands until they turned red. Then I sprayed them with Lysol for good measure. Needless to say, I didn't make it to the gym today. Tomorrow, if it's not snowing, I'll start my training.

What Goes Up Must Come Down

I have yet to start running but that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it. I am a "stick a toe in first" type of girl. I have been doing yoga which, in my opinion, totally counts as training. I am ready to run as the winter blubber I've put on to stay warm is starting to bother me. I spend most of my mornings in front of the mirror lifting my arms over my head and then bringing them down again. When the arms go up, I think "boobs were up here" and when the arms go down, "now boobs are down here." Then I turn around and watch my butt do the same thing. All in all, I think it's good for my ego.

In other news, I am really starting to like my internship. I know, this will totally get in the way of my self-loathing. The other day, however, I told the Editorial Assistant (whom I will from here on refer to as EA) that my boyfriend turned thirty and all I've been eating is birthday cake. She looked at me like I was speaking Spanish and I am pretty sure it was for two reasons: she's 22 and knows no one who's thirty, and she's stick thin and has never heard of "cake." Well my dear, this piece of cake is for you. Mmmm... delicious.

Homeward Bound

Right, so the training has yet to commence as my cat has been taking up my time (yeah, that's it). After six and a half weeks of being lost in the wilderness, Gabby came home last night. Man, am I glad - looking for her was such a pain in the ass. It's snowing out and the weather is so cold, it causes physical pain when the flakes hit the face. Calling for a cat for about an hour every night in weather like this blows. And so she is here; the prodigal daughter returned. Blessed is thou.

In other news, I started a new job which, on the first day, sucked, but now is delightful. The first day, I was called "intern" rather than by my name. Yeah, that's right, I am an intern with a masters and a full résumé (even without my lies about Habitat for Humanity). What can I say, I didn't vote for Bush. I digress - so I was called intern all day rather than "hot stuff," which is my legal name, causing me to sink into a deep depression that only McDonalds and a pack of cigarettes could fix. After finishing my unpaid shift, I headed straight to my source of gluttony - the corner store. Mmmm M&M McFlurrys. I'll wash you down with a side of Parliament lights. Now that's nice... Wait, why am I writing this blog again? I think it was something to do with fitness.

Anyway, the cat is home and the “job” is on track so it’s go time. Nine months until the marathon.

Good Golly, Let's Get Jolly

I think I may have overdone it on New Year's - it took me about a day and a half to feel "right" again AND I smoked myself some Parliaments even though I've had a long battle of giving them up. Yet, I still am determined to run this marathon in October and have even invited a few friends to greet me at the finish line with a sandwich as I am sure I will be hungry. Maybe I should just do a 10k. . . then I could be a smoker again (oh how I've missed it).