Get fit...or hypothetically die first in a horror film

Last Wednesday, I was introduced to the world of BODYPUMP. Today, my quads are finally starting to feel pain free. I can even almost go up and down the stairs without wincing.

Yep, nearly 5 days after the original workout and I'm still sore. Possible reasons:
1) It was a really intense workout...
2) I am the MOST out-of-shape person who doesn't also have a TLC show about being 600 pounds...
3) A combination of options 1 and 2.

So, when a personal trainer from my gym called up a few days ago and offered some free training starting next Wednesday, I took him up on the offer...and not just because I could use my personal training time slot as a reason to skip BODYPUMP this week. But I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge that skipping class was a factor, just not the only factor.

When I show up on Wednesday, he wants to take my measurements: height (short), weight (too much for my height), and body fat composition (Your clampy measuring things might be too small, but we can give it a go.). He also wants to discuss my fitness goals, so I started making a list...

1) Continue to participate in BODYPUMP classes and not have to convert everything in my home to be handicap accessible. I really could've used one of those grab bars by the toilet and I was pricing out elevators. Stairs post BODYPUMP are evil, and I'm now acutely aware of how many there are in our home. The Hubbs (who also got his butt kicked in BODYPUMP) and I were nearly ready to resort to rock-paper-scissors to determine which unlucky soul would have to go downstairs to put our dogs in their crate and let them out.  

I wish I could've thought of some witty explanation
for what I was doing while everyone else held the plank.

2) Be able to stay in a plank position for more than .05 seconds. Seriously, the rest of the class held that bad boy for a solid 30 seconds...I, on the other hand, took a rest on the mat and tried to figure out why my mouth tasted like pennies and when my sturdy legs had been swapped with Gumby's.

3) Balance. If you've been reading my blog, you saw here that coordination isn't one of my strengths...balance is also not one of those strengths. I kind of performed every other lunge during my class. On the lunges I missed, I was teetering perilously on one foot praying I wouldn't fall (curse you Gumby legs). Stretching wasn't much better...why don't fitness classes teach you how to stretch your quads while sitting? I feel like this would be a safer option for me.

4) Drop some serious poundage. I've had a desk job for five years and in those five years I've gone from my lightest adult weight to my heaviest (curse you desk job). As added motivation, I'm going on a cruise with my BFF soon and she's skinnier than me. I would prefer not to look like a beached whale in our pictures...unless of course I'm trying to imitate a beached whale.

5) Drop some inches and clothing sizes. My skinny closet is far cuter than my not-so-skinny closet. I would very much like to go shopping in my skinny closet. The Hubbs and the poketbook would also prefer this option over buying new clothes at the mall.

6) Be fit enough to complete a 5K. I would like to know with some certainly that I wouldn't be the first person to die in a horror film. The ability to run for a solid 30 minutes would greatly increase my survival odds.

Anything else I should add to my personal training list? I say bon voyage and set sail in less than a month, so hold me accountable dear readers...just remind me to go to the gym or be the girl destined to be the first goner in a slasher film FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. Scary, right?

I blame the oranges

So I took a little blog hiatus last week, and I'm sure the suspense has been building as you await stories about whatever preoccupation kept me from writing. So here it is. While you all were anxiously refreshing your browsers in hopes to catch a glimpse at a new post (just go with it...this girl needs dreams no matter how far-fetched), I was hangin' with two of my grandmas in Arizona and acting like a retiree.

I'm not going to lie. It was pretty awesome. Minus the frigid weather. The high temps for the 5 days we were there were 51, 49, 44, 51, 61...and on the day we left, 74. Go figure. The Hubbs and I have some pretty awful weather luck when we travel...rained and was unseasonably cool for most of our honeymoon, was unseasonably cool when I was in New Orleans last year, and there's a record freeze when we go to AZ. Take this as your warning in case you ever decide to travel with us.

In spite of the lame weather, the Hubbs and I were able to enjoy the retired lifestyle — we played shuffleboard, bocce ball, drove around in golf carts, went to dinner shows and the theater, learned how to make jewelry, swam in beautifully heated pools, and watched people far more talented than us work on stained glass, wood working and whittling projects. And we ate really, REALLY well.

Post gorging ourselves on all-you-can-eat (challenge accepted) ribs, chicken, ham,
green beans, dinner rolls, potatoes, baked beans, stuffing, oatmeal cookies.
I could try to blame the bulk on the winter coat, but you'd all know it's a lie.

Let's just say the Diet Nazi was put on hold, but the fresh oranges that I could get right off the tree outside at least kept me eating something besides carbs. They've also ruined me because the orange I picked up at the grocery store couldn't hold a candle to the citrus I was devouring in AZ. I haven't weighed myself since I got home, but if the poundage I lost has been found again, I'm going to blame the oranges (not the pancakes, french toast, BBQ ribs, salmon, pizza, popcorn, etc.).

We also met some lovely people...and one of them gave us a frozen salmon that he'd caught in Alaska where he and his family live the rest of the year. A trip highlight was definitely the reaction of the TSA security checker when she screened Hubby's carry-on bag containing the frozen fish...she had to run it through the scanner twice. When Hubbs said that she was probably seeing a frozen salmon, I was pretty certain our loot would be near the top on her "strange things people pack" list...either that or Hubbs would be taken into custody. And while I love him, there's a good chance I would've left him at the airport and taken it as a sign that I was supposed to stick around and enjoy the 74 degree weather.

Now that I'm back and being welcomed home by even MORE frigid weather...I'm so flippin' ready to retire. I can learn how to make beautiful things from wood, stone, glass, etc., play a ridiculous amount of card games, swim daily in a pool that's essentially filled with bath water, gorge myself on oranges, and take ballroom dance lessons (or about 9,000 other classes covering everything from foreign language training and photo editing to acting and silversmithing).

If any of you all would like to donate to the "help Sara retire" fund, I promise to let you come visit me in whatever warm locale I choose for my winter home. It'll be like a cooperative...but I get the master bedroom and you get the sleeper sofa. It is my brilliant idea after all. AND if you're really lucky, I might even snag you your very own Alaskan salmon...

The would-be hussy of online dating

The writer in me wouldn't handle online dating well...
but if there's money on the line, I would learn to adapt.

A good friend of mine recently found herself single after being out of the dating world for quite some time, and like many modern women, she decided to give the online dating realm a try. Being the avid pursuer of knowledge that I am, I have been EXTREMELY checked in to the happenings in her online dating life.

While I do not intend to be single anytime in the future (love you long time, Hubbs!!), I am learning a lot about my would-be online dating persona...and apparently I'm the hussy of online dating.

Why? Well, it's all about the money, money, money. As you read that last line, did you sing it a-la Jessie J.? I totally did when I typed it. I took some creative liberties with the lyric, but that's just how I roll. Feel free to re-read for full effect. I'll wait...

Aaannnnndddd back to the point, you see, unless you want to pick your future partner from a selection of people who are ONLY looking for hook-ups, you apparently need to join a paid online dating site like match, eharmony, etc...and you pay by the month.

Um...what?!? My mom is a crazy frugal lady (wash out plastic sandwich baggies frugal), and I have adopted a lot of her money sense. So, you better believe I'd be maximizing my online dating investment. Because of the dollar factor, I have encouraged my friend to break some cardinal online dating rules (that she's ascertained from more avid online daters). For example:

1) When a boy winks at you on match.com, the appropriate response is to wink back and wait for him to initiate email communication. My online dating persona says...forget that business. Time is a-ticking which means money is a-wasting. Ditch the wink and initiate some communication already. DOWNFALL: Apparently this means you're a eager beaver which gets you dubbed 1) easy AND/OR 2) ugly. Sweet. Now I'm the ugly hussy of online dating.

2) When a boy sends you email communication, you respond, but not too soon and don't include too much info. Again, you want to avoid getting pegged as an eager beaver, and you want to pique their interest but still have some cards to play in future email correspondence. My online dating persona says...get on with the show already. We all know those profile pics are photoshoped, taken in pristine lighting, or actually of your brother. I NEED TO SEE IF YOU'RE REAL AND FAST. Here's my phone number. Call me and let's do coffee tomorrow...time is a-ticking.

3) Never suggest coffee. Oops. I've been told coffee is a really awkward date since it takes about 15 minutes to drink and then what do you do. My online dating persona says...coffee is crazy non-committal and will occur in a public place where I won't get shanked. Plus, if I hate you after 15 minutes of coffee drinking, I can leave when my cup is empty. It's not like I've gotta hold out for dessert. HUGE BONUS...in addition to not getting shanked, of course! It's called efficiency people...and without much effort, I can probably schedule a couple coffee dates in a single day.

4) Don't schedule dates back-to-back. Oh, so you're saying I shouldn't do a happy hour and appetizer date with one guy, followed by dinner with another suitor, and dessert with still another. My online dating persona says...this is totally acceptable. Why do you think progressive dinners are so popular? You get to sample a whole lot of food AND several male companions. If you like the dessert man but the appetizer food, you've essentially killed two birds with one stone. Hey dessert man, let's try this restaurant for a full-on date...they have amazing appetizers.

5) It's the dude's job to propose follow-up dates. Let him take the lead. My online dating persona says...I'm not great with giving up control. It's probably best any potential life partner learn this early on. If he goes, "Well, the food was good, but I'm not crazy about the company," no skin off my back...I'm just glad I didn't waste any extra time courting a tool. Plus, there are about 1,000 other men on match.com. Surely one of them will appreciate a woman who makes decisions based on time and money and isn't a fan of wasting either.

6) Early on you can send "Dear John" messages to a 6 pursuer cause you're holding out for a 10. My online dating persona says...I totally get this logic. Weed out all the 10 through 8s first and then move down a rung. It's like a man buffet. Start with the good stuff when you've got lots of room in your tummy....you don't want to fill up on only sub-par cuisine. However, a 6 can buy my dinner as easily as a 10...my frugal online dating person has gotta figure out a way to make up the subscription fees somehow...hello no grocery bill. And, sometimes a 6 will surprise you.

So there you have it. My online dating person is shallow, motivated pretty much exclusively by money, and considered an unattractive hussy.

I am incredibly  lucky the Hubbs found me before I had to try my hand at online dating. Best of luck to my friend...she's a far better rule follower, so I don't anticipate her facing the challenges I hypothetically would.

Anyone else spend entirely too much time considering how they'd hypothetically handle online dating? Tell me about it via comments so I won't feel as horrible about myself. :)

Come on shake your body, Baby, do the...

ZUMBA!! Since my participation in Zumba was a pretty big deal this week, I don't think the great Gloria Estefan will be offended that I took a few liberties with her lyrics.

The best way I know to describe Zumba is that it's like rhythmic, aerobic dancing with some Latin flair...and it's AWESOME. Well, it would be more awesome if God had gifted me with just a tad more rhythm and coordination, but luckily He gave me a whole lotta improvisation abilities and an aptitude for making a fool of myself and not really caring.

Here are some tips for other first-time Zumba-ers who are blessed with similar grace:

What I envision I looked like while doing
my unique Zumba/Tae-Bo stylings

1) If you have a propensity for falling UP the stairs, you might not not get every step right, but keep trying or make it up as you go. Pretty sure my workout looked like a combo of poorly executed Zumba with a touch of Tae-Bo (whoop, whoop, shout out to Billy Blanks). Why you ask? Well, if I didn't understand the move, I just threw in some awkward kicks and jabs followed by some step touches. Heart rate still up? Check. Movement vaguely disguised as Zumba? Maybe. Still sweating? Yep. Cool, close enough.

2) You will hear others in the class laughing. Assume they're simply enjoying themselves and not laughing at you...or assume they are laughing at you and be proud that you're able to provide such quality entertainment.

3) Your instructor will appear to have consumed 900 energy drinks. It's cool. Don't be intimidated. You don't have to do every move with quite the same enthusiasm ..and actually considering the coordination issues it might be safer to hold back a bit. That way, when you run into the support post in the middle of the room because you were looking at your feet TRYING to make them move as instructed, you only hit it giving 80% effort and only get the 80% bruise. Not at all speaking from experience...yet. But, not gonna lie, there were a few close calls.

Diet Nazi Update

So the Diet Nazi is starting to feel more like a fuzzy Diet Tiger that you can sometimes pet, but there's always the risk that it might be less friendly and bite without warning...that metaphor made more sense in my head, but I'm running with it.

I am also down 3.5 pounds since Hangry Sara started this lovely blog last week. I'm pretty happy about the progress and can say that it's gotten much easier to stick to the eating plan and find simple ways to naturally increase my physical activity, which is nice cause I'm not a huge fan of exercise that feels like exercise.

That's what's new in my life. I hope you all are also enjoying weeks with lots of laughter and a few new experiences. If you have any tips on improving my Zumba skills, comment it up...you can also comment if you just want to know the time of the next class so you can come watch. I won't be offended UNLESS you submit a video of me to America's Funniest Home Videos and don't share the winnings...cause there's bound to be winnings.

That one time in Mitchell, SD

You know ANY blog with a title of "That one time in Mitchell, SD" HAS to be good. I promise not to disappoint.

The Corn Palace
See how it changes? Magnificent. Truly Magnificent.

When my older brother and I were in grade school, my mom worked as a high school Spanish teacher and had her summers off. So most summers we'd take a rousing family vacation…that was until the parentals decided we needed to go to South Dakota and hit all the "hot spots" – Mount Rushmore, Wall Drug, some rock I was told was "Crazy Horse" but I couldn't find a resemblance, and **drum roll** the Corn Palace.

Hot spots? If used in the same sentence as South Dakota, not likely. Rousing? Not a chance.

At first, I tried to be optimistic.

Me: "So, this Corn Palace, it's made entirely of corn?!?
Mom: "Kind of. It's a building that's decorated with corn."
Me: "Um, okay. Well, does it at least look like a fairy tale castle? Will I get to see a princess?!?"
Mom: "Well, not exactly like a princess castle. But, it's really neat. They change the outside design regularly, so if we go now and go back next summer, it would look different." 

Needless to say, expectations for the Corn Palace were pretty low…yet still too high. It was worse than we imagined. SO MUCH CORN. The hour or so tour mom forced upon us was brutal and followed up by at least an hour in the gift shop that was filled with…you guessed it – CORN. Corn T-shirts, paperweights, magnets, key chains. You name it, and you could find a CORNY version of it (I've been waiting for my chance to work in this pun…success)!!!

When it was FINALLY time to leave, we headed to or trusty blue van. Dad turned the key…dad turned the key again…and again…and again.

Crap. We were stuck at the Corn Palace. WORST DAY EVER!!!

So we got out of the van into the rather toasty summer air while dad, certified mechanic extraordinaire, did some diagnostics. Low and behold, the van's starter was kaput…right there in front of the Corn Palace. We weren't going ANYWHERE without a new part…and I was terrified.

No worries for the parentals though. Mom strapped on the fanny pack (no, they weren't cool then either) and off we went, on foot, to the Mitchell, SD, NAPA auto parts store to purchase a new starter for our van. Then, in front of the "majestic" Corn Palace, my dad scooted underneath the van (no small feat for a man of his stature) and began operating on our trusty blue chariot.

It felt like we were waiting for days, but mom had a fanny pack (function over fashion) and "shops" to explore, so she was good. My brother and I on the other hand were pretty sure we were never going home…I picked out a room in the Corn Palace to call my own, started memorizing the Mitchell zip code, and named the Native American statue that was sitting on a bench across the street. If we never got home, at least I'd have one friend in this lame town – even if he wasn't much of a conversationalist.

And then, by what I can only assume was a divine act of God, the big blue van started up, and off we went.

I've NEVER been so happy – sorry hubs our wedding is a close second to the day our family van rolled away from the Corn Palace. And as we left Mitchell, SD, I made a promise to myself, "I don't care if this thing looks like a REAL palace next summer, I'm not coming back. Ever."

Sorry, Mitchell, SD, zip code 57301, but I'm pretty sure that's a promise I'll keep. However, if anyone does venture that way, be sure to tell my buddy Clark Big Bear hello from me. For half a day, we were really tight. My only regret is that I couldn't save Clark, but on your way out of Mitchell, there's NO turning back. Sorry, Clark.

I think I've finally found my calling in life

I think I've finally found my calling in life: To offer parenting advice.

Cue the collective sigh from all my dear readers (especially the parents) who can think of about 1.5 billion other people they'd take parenting advice from before consulting me. However, BEFORE you comment that I have NO RIGHT giving you advice on how to raise your kids and then unsubscribe, hear me out.

I'm not about tell ANYONE what to do with their kids...I merely like to offer suggestions when solicited. And, sure, I'm one part of a DINK (Double Income No Kids) family with no immediate plans to change that status. But, I am also now a proud older sister to 6 (count 'em) siblings whose ages range from 4 to 10.

My parents' house is like a legit parenting experiment…a real life living-learning lab if you will. While I was home over Christmas break, I had the wonderful privilege of testing out some of my parenting gut instincts…and they weren't all half bad.

STORY TIME!!!

My siblings have an amazing knack for losing things that are literally RIGHT in front of their faces. Rather than spend ANY time looking for said missing item, they find my mom and say, "Mom, I can't find **insert missing item**." So, my dearest mom, tells them to look harder, and then she eventually gets up to go find the missing sock, toy, shoe, coat, glasses, dog, etc.

I've witnessed this chain of events more than once, and when my lovely sis (age 5) trotted downstairs lamenting a missing article, I suggested to mom that she charge a "finder's fee." Mom would go upstairs look for the lost item, and if she found it, little sis had to pony up 50 cents of her allowance.

At first explanation of the proposition, my sis blindly agreed to paying for my mother's bloodhound skills, but when mom re-presented the proposition by saying, "So, if I go upstairs and find it, I get 50 cents of your allowance, which means you'll get 50 cents less than your sis (age 4) gets for allowance. Do you want me to go find it or do you want to look a little longer?"

WAIT. PUMP THE BRAKES. Less money than my sister?!? "I'll go look a little longer," she replied. And magically, the lost became found…without the aid of my mother.

So, there you have it. My parenting advice is the bomb!!! From now on you can feel free to message me any questions or concerns, and I'll bust out my amazing parenting guru-ness…but only if you ask. I promise not to be one of THOSE people...you know the ones I'm talking about.

AND...a Diet Nazi update for those who care.

I've lost two pounds since Thursday...all while eating peanut butter m&m's, a cupcake, and a cookie...oh and also while logging "fitness activities" like Wii Bowling, destroying the ice dam at the end of my drive way, light daily housework and playing a Zumba fitness demo. AND this included a 2 pound wight GAIN after day one...yeah, I wasn't impressed. (In light of this, I feel like I can claim a 4 pound weight loss).

Imagine what could've been had I been legit with the plan and exercise. However, I'm feeling less and less HANGRY these days (my hubby might beg to differ), so hopefully I'll be able to stick to the plan a little more now that my body is finally adjusting to the new eating regimen. I'll keep you posted—and all my limbs are still as God intended...uneaten.

When the universe turns against you

Do you ever feel like the universe is working against you? That's pretty much how I started to feel late last night. The Diet Nazi had been far kinder on day two than it was on day one and my limbs were all still in tact — it really is the small things in life. However, the day was wrapping up and my willpower was waning as my tummy began grumbling. And then the universe turned against me.

Some background info to help you follow. You see, Cedar Rapids is a city of many smells, and in the five years I've called this city home, 99.9% of the smells that have wafted in through my car vents have been FAR from appetizing. I've heard tales of the air smelling like Cap'n Crunch Berries on occasion, but I was pretty sure people were lying about this phenomena since I'd never experienced "pleasant" CR smells...that is until day two of the starvation plan. And then, as the day was coming to a close and I was starting to feel a little HANGRY, the sweet smell wafted into my car.

Seriously?!? Can't a girl catch a break?

Cap'n, why, oh why, do you have to make your Crunch
Berries just so darn tasty...and delicious smelling???

I took every evasive measure I could think of to distract me from the lovely smell that was amplifying the grumbles in my stomach — changed the settings on the heater to only circulate air already in the car vs. pulling in any more of the DELICIOUS scent (too late, the air inside the car was contaminated), singing loudly with the radio AND trying to sing every lyric correctly (now that takes some serious concentration), only breathing through my mouth (maybe not the best idea while also trying to sing loudly...hello lightheaded while operating a moving vehicle).

But everything I tried was to no avail. By the time I made it to my destination, I was ready to LICK the car vents...and then I ate a cookie. 

So there you have it. Day two of taking the Diet Nazi head on and I'm off the wagon. At least I know Cap'n Crunch Berries day does exist and isn't just a cruel prank to keep me inhaling deeply in the hopes that one day I will be greeted by something other than a putrid stench. What can I say. Living here is like roulette for the senses.

And, in the pursuit of full disclosure with my dear readers, I can say day three, which is quickly coming to a close, hasn't gone much better than day two...just replace the cookie I ate on day two with a cupcake on day three. And that slip up is even WITHOUT the Captin' Crunch air temptress crushing my willpower. Weight Watchers is sounding better all the time...well, Weight Watchers and a giant bowl of Crunch Berries. :)

Hey bloggy world...here's to distratcions

So, I finally bit the bullet and decided to start a bloggy blog. The reasons for this choice are rather vast...

1) It's a new year (w00t, w00t 2013!!) so why not try documenting the happenings in my life in a new and fun way...hopefully.
2) It's day one of my Special K Challenge and needed something to do during my lunch break to distract me from the throbbing hunger pangs in my stomach.

Diet Nazi -- Similar to the Soup Nazi dude only
WAY MORE  terrifying and he works for
Kellogg's developing meal (starvation) plans

Seriously, I could eat my arm. Now, I know some of you might be thinking, "Sara, don't be dumb. It's lunch time, so go eat." And here, my dear friends, is where the problem lies...I've already eaten the meager lunch allowed by the plan, which I will now fondly refer to as the Diet Nazi. I'm REALLY hoping the Diet Nazi lays off and stops tap dancing in my gut sometime during the next two weeks or my poor hubby is going to deal with one very, very HANGRY wifey. 

han • gry (han-gree) A state of anger caused by lack of food; hunger causing a negative change in emotional state.

Yep, that's where I'm at. Only hangry doesn't seem strong enough...I'm adding come up with a stronger word for my-insides-are-eating-themsevles-because-there's-no-food-in-my-belly-but-just-flippin'-ate hunger to my to-do list...stay tuned for that development because whatever I come up with is CERTAIN to be awesome. I'm a communication major after all.

If nothing else, this sorry excuse for a meal plan has prompted me to join the interwebs. Here's to day two being better, and a new start to 2013 with a new bloggy blog. For the sake of my limbs, I promise to update when starving...