I found this on Oddee, interesting. It is called "10 incredibly hot women larger than a size 12"
http://www.oddee.com/item_98119.aspx
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Monday, July 30, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
So why the long hiatus?
Well, it started as a wedding/honeymoon vacation from working. Two glorious weeks in the Mayan Riviera where I married my best friend of eight years (tied the knot beachside surrounded by family and friends) and had an amazing vacation filled with fun, adventure, relaxation, and lots of food and drinks!So when I left sunny Mexico, arriving home to blasé weather, I felt pretty ho hum and it took a while to get back into the swing of things and snap out of my mexicoma. After dragging my ass to boot camp, hot yoga, and the gym, my energy levels still were not where they used to be. Also, I my sense of smell was unusually heightened, and all I wanted to eat was fruit for breakfast lunch and dinner.
I guess you can guess where I am going here? PREGO! Right, well how efficient of me to get knocked up on my honeymoon.
So we all are aware of how hard it is too eat healthy and maintain a clean diet normally, well try doing that when you are pregnant. Apparently the general public (my office at least) thinks that I am growing a 200 pound man in my uterus and I should be eating a pile of food hourly. I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard “ah, you’re pregnant you can eat whatever you want”, “you get nine months of non-dieting”, and the famous: “you are eating for two now” (no, I am eating for me and a mini little me, not me and a Patriots linebacker).
Don’t even get me started on the comments you get when working out when you are prego.
So fast forward to today, after a not great pregnancy, a not ideal delivery, I have a sweet little baby girl (note: must tone down bitchy ways and stop dropping the F bomb) and a pile of pregnancy weight to lose. Am I back to square one? Kind of, at least I know I can do it and I don’t have to relearn everything.
Standing in one of my best friend’s wedding in July, can I lose a million pounds by then? (Weddings are my motivation apparently.) Here we go again….
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
(Boooo)t camp
Well, since my wish for a week long stomach flu to come and make me not eat and therefore become skinny really quickly...I signed up for boot camp. I am a nut ball, boot camp kills me.
I go to this gym....well...not really a ‘gym’ per say....more like a hard core training facility with sand pits, big tires, ropes, a lot of weights, and crazed instructors walking around. As excited as I am to run through the sand and scale walls, I can’t help but be nervous (what if I can’t do it, what if I look silly, what if I pass out, what if my shorts get hooked on the wall and when I jump over they rip and show my butt to everyone)? NO! Suck it up princess, you don’t get skinny by dreaming it so, climb that rope bitch!
Oh, uh, sorry....got in boot camp mode there for a second. So back to class....
Warm up (felt more like a workout to me) was on the spin bikes (uh, spin! One of the workouts I hate more than anything) and it was tough. The instructor would come around and turn up the tension and make us bike with one leg (whimper) I was gasping and dying and ready to try and sneak lower my tension back down to the baby level, but I was caught and reprimanded with an even higher tension (wahhhh) and then, no word of a lie, the Rocky theme song starts playing (swear to god!). So I muster up the strength to try and finish, and whisper-yell “Adriannnnn” to the two girls next to me as a joke, but they must be too young and just stare at me blankly like I called them Adrian even though their names are probably Bambi and Barbie judging by the size of their hope earrings and their cleavage (they do know this is an all girls boot camp right?).
Wow, 45 minutes of hell and man do I feel awesome. I walk like a shaking leaf to the change room, accidentally walk into the men’s change room (thankfully empty so I didn’t see any peens or hairy man-butts) I chug a bottle of water, munch some protein and veggies (hard boiled eggs and veggie stick which sat in my car all day...nice) drive home, and sleep like a milk-drunk baby.
Next day at work, while practicing my sexy walk to the printer, I feel nothing but butt and thigh pain. It is hard to walk, sit, squat, basically move.
It is my new favourite thing.
I go to this gym....well...not really a ‘gym’ per say....more like a hard core training facility with sand pits, big tires, ropes, a lot of weights, and crazed instructors walking around. As excited as I am to run through the sand and scale walls, I can’t help but be nervous (what if I can’t do it, what if I look silly, what if I pass out, what if my shorts get hooked on the wall and when I jump over they rip and show my butt to everyone)? NO! Suck it up princess, you don’t get skinny by dreaming it so, climb that rope bitch!
Oh, uh, sorry....got in boot camp mode there for a second. So back to class....
Warm up (felt more like a workout to me) was on the spin bikes (uh, spin! One of the workouts I hate more than anything) and it was tough. The instructor would come around and turn up the tension and make us bike with one leg (whimper) I was gasping and dying and ready to try and sneak lower my tension back down to the baby level, but I was caught and reprimanded with an even higher tension (wahhhh) and then, no word of a lie, the Rocky theme song starts playing (swear to god!). So I muster up the strength to try and finish, and whisper-yell “Adriannnnn” to the two girls next to me as a joke, but they must be too young and just stare at me blankly like I called them Adrian even though their names are probably Bambi and Barbie judging by the size of their hope earrings and their cleavage (they do know this is an all girls boot camp right?).
Finally we finish the so called ‘warm up’ and it is on to more intense stuff like:
Jumping rope with an extra heavy mutant jump rope
Running on a treadmill that isn’t turned on (ya, try that at the gym and see if anyone stares at you like a dumdum)
Doing too many weights, push ups, sit ups, burpees, squat jumps, double and triple squat jumps, something else that made my ass hurt but I just can’t explain in type...it is like crawling...like a crab, but forward??? Does that make sense? I call it the ass hurter.
Next day at work, while practicing my sexy walk to the printer, I feel nothing but butt and thigh pain. It is hard to walk, sit, squat, basically move.
It is my new favourite thing.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Pole Dancing Fitness?
Pole Dancing Fitness Class? Me?
Yes, that is right, why not give it a try?
I must admit I considered bailing a few times as pole dancing class sounds so...well sluty! But I am trying new fitness things, and this is a new thing....so here we go! I arrive early for the class, and there is no waiting area inside, so I sit in my car watching the previous class "perform", clearly they are a couple levels ahead. As I watch the girls from my car I am very aware that I resemble a pervert parked in the lot peeking through the cracks in the curtains to watch amateur pole dancers. It does look...semi fun? More than anything it looks scary as so many people are watching you whore it up. My god that blonde chick just turned upside down and wrapped her legs around the pole, let go of her hands, and slid gracefully down to the floor and did some hooker get up move, man...will I have to do that? I am not sure these thighs are cut out for rubbing down a brass pole bearing all my weight.
It is time to go in, and I am happy to report that the rest of the new girls look just as scared as I do. I am also surprised to see chubby girls and old woman, good for them for branching out and taking sexy lessons! The rest of the other girls look like me which makes me happy. When it is my turn at the reception desk I say "Hi, I am here for stripper lessons."
Whoa...I get a death look
"UH, you mean pole dancing class?" the receptionist snaps.
I rack my brain and try to think of another 'profession' that would utilize a stripper pole in their daily duties, but decide to not piss off the receptionist with a bull ring through her nose.
"Oh, sorry...yes I want to dance with the pole please"
Bull nose is not impressed and she sends me to the floor group first (dammit!).
I go to the group stretching on the mats (apparently you need to limber up before straddling a pole?) the girl next to me whispers "why do they only have 5 poles when they have classes of 15?" I reply "to punish the ones that call it stripper lessons apparently" she laughs and we are instantly best stripper friends.
Well, I must say. There is more to pole dancing class than flinging yourself around a pole. One, you have to learn to do everything "sexy" there is none of this flopping down on the floor and then jumping back up like you normally would, oh no no no. You have to cat crawl around, and thrust your pelvis around, and POINT YOUR FEET (as I keep getting yelled at to do), and stick that tush out I am told more than once. Also, you are not allowed to walk normal, you have to sexy-walk everywhere, which is actually quite fun.
OK, I instantly feel sexier now that I can walk and crawl like a temptress. LET ME AT THE POLE!
Finally it is my group’s turn to slut it up at the poles. We clean them first (gross) and then learn your basic stripper moves (I mean pole dancing class moves) and now it’s time to grab the pole with your hands (insert dirty joke here) and slide down gracefully, holding all your weight, sliding ever so sexy down the pole and lay sultry down on the floor. Yay I can't wait to try.
Time to sexy-walk up to the pole, my turn!
I now have pole burn.
How did she do that? I did exactly what my instructor did, but instead of slipping around gracefully and oozing stripper elegance, I gyrated down the pole like a vibrating dildo making an unattractive squeaking noise and slammed into the floor. God! I sexy-walk away in shame.
So after an hour of stripper lessons...sorry, I mean pole dancing class...I have come to the following conclusions:
1. This is not a ‘workout’ more of an activity
2. Pole dancing is F*cking hard
3. Strippers deserve those $5 bills they get stuffed in their G-strings
4. I really want to ask the instructors if they are strippers, but figure that will be rude. (do you think they are? I need to know.)
So the next day:
1. My hands are sore from grasping pole (insert another dirty joke here)
2. The tops of my feet are bruised as I don’t know how to gracefully slide down a pole
3. I catch myself sexy-walking to the printer twice
4. I almost try a spin on the stop sign. Almost, it was too wobbly and probably would buckle under the pressure.
______________________
So an update on this post. Anyone who pole dances for fun and does it not to strip. I get it, I did it for fun too and would do it again. I am not a stripper. Yes, I know you all aren't strippers. This Blog is called "fit BITCH blog", so if you want to anonymously post that I am being rude and saying everyone is a stripper, then you didn't read the whole article. Relax, if you can't take pole dancing jokes lightly, then perhaps you should take up another activity that isn't associated so closely with naked women who strip for money.
Yes, that is right, why not give it a try?
I must admit I considered bailing a few times as pole dancing class sounds so...well sluty! But I am trying new fitness things, and this is a new thing....so here we go! I arrive early for the class, and there is no waiting area inside, so I sit in my car watching the previous class "perform", clearly they are a couple levels ahead. As I watch the girls from my car I am very aware that I resemble a pervert parked in the lot peeking through the cracks in the curtains to watch amateur pole dancers. It does look...semi fun? More than anything it looks scary as so many people are watching you whore it up. My god that blonde chick just turned upside down and wrapped her legs around the pole, let go of her hands, and slid gracefully down to the floor and did some hooker get up move, man...will I have to do that? I am not sure these thighs are cut out for rubbing down a brass pole bearing all my weight.
It is time to go in, and I am happy to report that the rest of the new girls look just as scared as I do. I am also surprised to see chubby girls and old woman, good for them for branching out and taking sexy lessons! The rest of the other girls look like me which makes me happy. When it is my turn at the reception desk I say "Hi, I am here for stripper lessons."
Whoa...I get a death look
"UH, you mean pole dancing class?" the receptionist snaps.
I rack my brain and try to think of another 'profession' that would utilize a stripper pole in their daily duties, but decide to not piss off the receptionist with a bull ring through her nose.
"Oh, sorry...yes I want to dance with the pole please"
Bull nose is not impressed and she sends me to the floor group first (dammit!).
I go to the group stretching on the mats (apparently you need to limber up before straddling a pole?) the girl next to me whispers "why do they only have 5 poles when they have classes of 15?" I reply "to punish the ones that call it stripper lessons apparently" she laughs and we are instantly best stripper friends.
Well, I must say. There is more to pole dancing class than flinging yourself around a pole. One, you have to learn to do everything "sexy" there is none of this flopping down on the floor and then jumping back up like you normally would, oh no no no. You have to cat crawl around, and thrust your pelvis around, and POINT YOUR FEET (as I keep getting yelled at to do), and stick that tush out I am told more than once. Also, you are not allowed to walk normal, you have to sexy-walk everywhere, which is actually quite fun.
OK, I instantly feel sexier now that I can walk and crawl like a temptress. LET ME AT THE POLE!
Finally it is my group’s turn to slut it up at the poles. We clean them first (gross) and then learn your basic stripper moves (I mean pole dancing class moves) and now it’s time to grab the pole with your hands (insert dirty joke here) and slide down gracefully, holding all your weight, sliding ever so sexy down the pole and lay sultry down on the floor. Yay I can't wait to try.
Time to sexy-walk up to the pole, my turn!
I now have pole burn.
How did she do that? I did exactly what my instructor did, but instead of slipping around gracefully and oozing stripper elegance, I gyrated down the pole like a vibrating dildo making an unattractive squeaking noise and slammed into the floor. God! I sexy-walk away in shame.
So after an hour of stripper lessons...sorry, I mean pole dancing class...I have come to the following conclusions:
1. This is not a ‘workout’ more of an activity
2. Pole dancing is F*cking hard
3. Strippers deserve those $5 bills they get stuffed in their G-strings
4. I really want to ask the instructors if they are strippers, but figure that will be rude. (do you think they are? I need to know.)
So the next day:
1. My hands are sore from grasping pole (insert another dirty joke here)
2. The tops of my feet are bruised as I don’t know how to gracefully slide down a pole
3. I catch myself sexy-walking to the printer twice
4. I almost try a spin on the stop sign. Almost, it was too wobbly and probably would buckle under the pressure.
______________________
So an update on this post. Anyone who pole dances for fun and does it not to strip. I get it, I did it for fun too and would do it again. I am not a stripper. Yes, I know you all aren't strippers. This Blog is called "fit BITCH blog", so if you want to anonymously post that I am being rude and saying everyone is a stripper, then you didn't read the whole article. Relax, if you can't take pole dancing jokes lightly, then perhaps you should take up another activity that isn't associated so closely with naked women who strip for money.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
7 weeks to go
We as you know I (and most of my bridal party) am trying to lose those last pesky fat pounds so we can rock it on the beach in a mere 7 weeks. We want to look like hot sexy models and not like this:
Or at least that is how I see myself in my mind some days when that EFFing scale won’t budge, and that stupid measuring tape doesn’t get any smaller.
So what I need is ‘extra’ help....but what? I am desperate and at the point where I find myself looking at fat burner pills, and Jillian Micheals Detox pills....but as we know...whole healthy food and exercise is key, not pills. Calories are already being counted, fat and carb grams are being watched....exercising as much as possible....What else can I do?
How about kick my ass into high gear: Signed up for BIKINI BOOT CAMP!
Oh my god what have I done? First class is this week, I will keep you posted :)
Or at least that is how I see myself in my mind some days when that EFFing scale won’t budge, and that stupid measuring tape doesn’t get any smaller.
So what I need is ‘extra’ help....but what? I am desperate and at the point where I find myself looking at fat burner pills, and Jillian Micheals Detox pills....but as we know...whole healthy food and exercise is key, not pills. Calories are already being counted, fat and carb grams are being watched....exercising as much as possible....What else can I do?
How about kick my ass into high gear: Signed up for BIKINI BOOT CAMP!
Oh my god what have I done? First class is this week, I will keep you posted :)
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