Goals


Mr. W and I are invited to his boss’s awards ceremony banquet this Saturday evening, where we’ll be rubbing elbows with high society as Boss is awarded [Her High Position] of the Year. It’s a black-tie optional affair, so that means “pretty formal.” I thought I’d try to wear a classic black designer original gown I’d purchased my freshman year in college, a $400 number I’ve had occasion to wear all of twice. It’s not like me to blow that much cash, especially as a poor starving student, on non-tax-deductible stuff like clothing. But eleven years ago, my college roommate was a karaoke video model and a slave to Chanel makeup and United Colors of Benetton clothing. What happens when I shop with someone like that is I make a frivolous purchase or two with no occasion to use the new attire.

The dress has a strapless straight neckline, a fitted bodice down to the hip and a slightly A-line skirt going down to my ankles. A wide slit up the left side of my leg is partially covered with two layers of slightly flared, sheer black chiffon. It’s timeless, romantic, classy, and…a size 4. Nervously earlier in my bedroom before the floor-length mirrors covering my sliding closet doors, I stripped and stepped into the dress. I pulled it up, reached behind me, and zipped the sucker right up to the top! Woohoo!! I can sit in it and bend and everything! I should probably be able to eat, too. Talk about making my night! Oh, and also, now I’m a bit guilty for skipping the workout at lunch today. Vanessa’s on her way over to meet for dinner and hopefully we’ll make it to the gym afterwards.

Now I gotta figure out if I have shoes to go with the dress. And jewelry! Because of the simple neckline of the strapless bodice, I’m free to accessorize as much or as little as I want. Maybe I’ll go with pearls, something simple to complement the simplicity of the dress. But I think I may have to go shoe shopping.

Whoa. Suddenly…prom flashbacks.

I’ve been going strong at the gym, not because I’m motivated, but because I’m being dragged. I had Saturday off because the various activities Mr. W and I had planned, but we more than made up for it on Sunday’s 3-hour gym sesh in which I killed myself. Monday, I hit the gym at lunch as usual, then met up with Vanessa for that cardio weight-lifting class after work. Tuesday (yesterday), I skipped the gym at lunch to actually eat with some coworkers since I was too sore to do more weights, but after work Mr. W got me to a gym local to his house and he pounded out an hour of cardio on the elliptical trainer as I did 20 minutes on the bike, 22 minutes (2 miles) on the treadmill, 25 minutes on the elliptical trainer.

This morning, it seemed to pay off. While I was getting dressed, I noticed that my lower abdominal flab, which hangs like a smile under my belly button, was less smiley today. It was more like a tight-lipped smirk. So it’s going away! My reporter said something about how I must be losing weight, too. My pantsuit yesterday felt looser in the thigh, butt and lower abdomen area.

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” my gym trainee said yesterday when I told her that I was being dragged to an hour of cardio after work despite taking the noon workout off. “Yeah, apparently the gift also ricochets,” I said.

I can’t tell whether I’m bitching or bragging.

(In case anyone’s wondering about Mr. W’s progress, he had to tighten his belt one notch down this weekend.)

Okay, I’m feeling guilty. Extremely guilty. I have not gone to jujitsu this entire semester. I didn’t enroll, either, but I’m still on their mailing list and the emails keep urging attendance, saying the dojo is in danger of shutting down this semester due to lack of interest. I feel horrible, but I’m still not interested. It was something I did to expand my physical defense/combat knowledge and to take up time while I was single. Mr. W takes up most of my evenings now, and I enjoy that. I think he likes me being his little shadow when he runs his errands.

I also told a coworker that I’d take up belly dancing with her instructor this session. I think the first class is today. I was planning to go, but now Mr. W springs on me that he’s planning to buy a Prius today, so now I wanna be there.

Oh no, am I turning into The Girlfriend and not Cindy anymore? 🙁

*** Addendum ***
I just got a call from the coworker, who’s all nasal sounding at home. She’s been out sick for a week, and apologizes but she can’t make the class today. I’m off the hook! Guilt’s gone!

*** Additional Addendum ***
Mr. W just called. He’s leaving early to go to the dealership to get the car, since the salesperson he’d been negotiating with leaves at 6p. So I guess I actually could have made belly dancing. Oh well. The jurors buzzed that they have a verdict now, anyhow.

So… my gym trainee has broken the ultra-difficult plateau and gotten below the weight line that she could not get under for the longest time…she’s now under 160 lbs. Yay! She’s at 159.2, and hopefully that’ll keep dropping. Not bad for the holidays. Mr. W has broken past the 200 lb barrier and is in the 190s. Before you go thinking that he’s fat, lemme say that he’s over 6′ tall. And me…well, I’m okay with where I’m at, altho ideally I can drop another 10. I did break my 10s platform and now I’m under 130. Not by much, but it’s better than the alternative.

May you have an unexpected head start in reaching your New Year’s Resolutions this year. 🙂

Please note the time. I’ve just gotten back from the gym! And it wasn’t because I went to the gym at 11p. Oh no, Mr. W and I set foot on the weight floor a little before 9p.

I used to be pretty hardcore about working out. In my heyday, I’d hit weights during lunchtime for 45 minutes to an hour, supersetting everything and getting 8-9 exercises in, 3 sets of 15 reps each. And then I’d go back after work for at least 45 minutes of cardio. And then every other day, I’d run outdoors (4-6 miles on weekdays, 10-12 miles on weekends). Now, I hit the gym at lunch for 35 minutes of weights, working in with my gym trainee so I don’t always get to superset, so we get about 4-5 exercises in on average, and maybe but rarely I’d go to jujitsu for a few hours after work. I’ve been ditching jujitsu and even bellydancing, and both are now on hiatus until next year. I’m not running much unless it’s on the treadmill for 3o mins or so.

Now that I’ve got Mr. W a membership, he’s always suggesting going to the gym. And by always, I don’t mean daily. I mean he’s there every lunch that work doesn’t oblige him to do something else, whether or not I go to the gym, and he wants to go again after work. On weekends he tries to make plans with me all day to go. But I’m in a workout slump. Today, I let him drag me through the motions of what I used to do. With my new Apple iPod Shuffle loaded with music, we hit a new gym. (He’s also into trying all the ones within a half hour’s drive from his house, and when we go some place on vacation, he wants to try the affiliated gyms there.) We both really liked the Orange 24 Hour Fitness; it’s clean, spacious, has new updated equipment, and uncrowded. I think we’ve found our home gym. After 10 minutes of stairclimber (because he wants to try a new cardio equipment), we went upstairs to the weight floor. I did 7 exercises at 3 sets of 15 reps each and was ready to call it a day, feeling pretty proud of myself for doing more than I have been doing on my own. But Mr. W wanted to work his minor muscle groups now t hat he’s worked his major muscles. I figure it’s good for me, so I did some triceps with him. And then I went to him, ready to go, relieved it’s over and more proud of myself for hanging in there. He wants to do abs. I’ve been slacking on my ab work, too, so I drag myself down there to do it with him. It’s nice to end a workout with some abs, anyway. I did 2 types of advanced ab stuff as he did his. After we were done, I prepared to walk to the locker room. He leaned his body toward the cardio equipment. “You want to do cardio?” I said somewhat incredulously. I guess a 10-minute cooldown wouldn’t kill me. He looked hesitant. “What, you wanna do MORE?” I asked. He wanted to do 40 minutes. It was now 10:30p and an hour and a half past his normal bedtime. He’s usually very cranky if he can’t be in bed by 9p. We compromised and did 25 minutes of elliptical trainer with a 5-minute cooldown. I was SO ready to go home. He announced he’s going to the steam room. Good Lord, where is this energy coming from?! I was too exhausted to sit in heat, and I’d run out of water, so I told him I’d meet him outside. I took my time in the locker room showering and getting changed, listening to some naked old Asian lady hock up noogies in the shower and in the mirrored vanity area as she dried her hair, standing there clothe-less and dripping, with the hand-dryer. And then I waited for him in the lounge area by the front desk.

I called college roommie Diana from there. Diana is a well-known gym rat. I told her, “I’m at the gym.” She said, “Okay, that’s good,” noting that it’s late. “I’ve been here since before 9,” I wailed. She started laughing, because I’d previously told her how I couldn’t get Mr. W to buy gym membership, how he always said he hated gyms, the way they’re crowded and smelly and anyone is stupid to pay for a gym when they can just buy some dumbbells for home use and go run for free outside. I told Diana how I got worked at the gym by the boyfriend tonight. “Good!” she said.

Maybe Mr. W’s new enthusiasm for gymming will get me back on track. He got me to the gym early for lunch yesterday, too, and I’m totally sore from that workout. Maybe this gym membership I bought for him is not just giving him the gift of health, it’s giving me the gift as well, as a sort of 2-for-1 thing. “What I like about going to the gym is that it’s something we can do together,” he said earlier in the car. So maybe it’s a 3-for-1 thing. I hope he doesn’t let me slack, cuz I know this is good for me and if I can’t motivate myself, he can either motivate me or club me over the head and let me regain consciousness on a hip adductor machine.

P.S. The time now is 12:39, 30 minutes after I started writing this post. Music from “Guitar Hero 2” is wafting in from the living room. Mr. W’s playing. WHERE is all this new energy coming from?!

An attorney who called me the other day (for something totally work-related) told me about a new weight-loss program she’s on. It’s a totally customized program designed and monitored by a doctor who used to be a ob/gyn and therefore is very knowledgeable about hormone levels and how it affects the human body.

The doctor takes a blood test and examines all the markers for metabolism and the individual body’s response to various hormones and food enzymes. That way he knows how each person’s body would respond to carbs, proteins, specific foods, etc. He then designs a special diet for what the patient is to eat all day. The attorney said the food is good, natural stuff, but that she was surprised at the things her body would react poorly to, for example, she can only eat 1/2 a tomato a day and no broccoli because there’s some enzyme or protein in those veggies that her body reacts to by slowing metabolism or insulin production down. Because she was bulimic in the past, this new diet will retrain her body to react heathily and normally to foods, and by correcting her metabolism, she should be on the fat-loss track as normal people are. Just like me, she used to work out 2 hours in the gym daily, do all sorts of cardio, and have zero results.

Although she said this diet is a bit expensive, if it works for her I totally want to try it. All the diet programs out there don’t work for me, either, because my body doesn’t respond to anything due to what I’ve screwed up being anorexic in the past.

As a reminder for those of you who’d expressed interest in participating in the 2nd Disneyland Half Marathon/10K/5K, registration for next year’s event opens today. (California’s Disneyland, to be more clear.)

As for myself, I’m undecided as to whether I want to put myself through that again. The toenail is still missing. At least, I think it’s still missing. I seem to have developed a very thin but hard layer of something over the nail bed. I always thought nails grow from the bottom cuticle up. Do they really grow from the topmost surface of the skin out?

Huh. It seems that in finding you guys the link to register, I saw that they postponed registration to January, 2007. Consider yourselves just temporarily off the hook. *pointing at YOU*

2007 Disneyland Run registration info

There’s something about schizophrenic Southern California weather that would wake me up with Christmas memories and, five hours later, have me running around the city in a 5K in 85 degree sun wishing for shade.

The run (with Mr. W, who’d called and invited me on his regular noontime run course) felt good, though. The breeze, at least, was cool. I hadn’t run outdoors since the Disneyland Half-Marathon in mid-September. In leaving work in my running clothes, my gym trainee (who’d laughed at me when I invited her to come jogging) drove by on her way to the gym, rolled down her window, and yelled out the car, “Call me if you need a ride! I’ll have my cell phone!”

Worked out at the gym, washed the car(s), had some rare Ahi tuna tataki salad at Cheesecake Factory, went to jujitsu, ran a mile.

Sounds simple, huh? It wasn’t. Instead of doing a nice-and-easy, go-at-your-own-pace couple of miles like the four of us did last week, Josh and Gerardo came up with the brilliant idea of running a mile as fast as we could and seeing what our times are. Since I was the only one with a watch, I did the countdown and we started at exactly 9:45p. At an outdoors track in 58-degree weather (I know the temperature because my car said so), the brisk air cut into all of our lungs. Josh was spitting bloody phlegm afterwards, my lungs still hurt upon expansion right now such that it forces a little feminine bong-smoker sounding cough out of me when I inhale sharply, Jackie was wheezing, and Gerardo…well, he was just fine. In fact, he came in first at about 7 1/2 minutes; I came in second at 8:05; Josh was 2 seconds behind me; and Jackie did pretty well at exactly 9 1/2 minutes. While the rest of us were walking off our misery, cramps and phlegm balls, Gerardo went and did some pull-ups as if gravity didn’t apply to him. “Gravity actually helps him,” Jackie remarked bitterly. “It somehow propels him upwards.” Gerardo is apparently superman who needs to push himself down to keep his feet on earth. And then we found out when he was a teenager, he used to do some gymnast stuff. =P I knew I couldn’t compete with him in grappling, boxing, jujitsu, or running, but apparently I can’t out-double-back-flip him off parallel bars, either. If he weren’t so nice, funny and supportive, I’d hate him. Or if he were female, I’d hate him.

I’m just kidding. Cuz he’d make too ugly of a female to incite hatred in me.

I’m just kidding. He has beautiful features. In fact, I’m gonna get him drunk in Hawaii, put makeup on him and take some photos.

I’m just kidding. Well, maybe.

I actually had a productive day already! I still didn’t pack, but I figure I’ll save that for Friday.

This morning, I got to sleep in like I always wished I could on work days (hitting the snooze button for an hour straight), then I got up, showered, spot-cleaned my carpet (Oxy-Clean is freaking amazing!), vacuumed both floors, did the dishes, cleaned the cat area, changed Dodo’s litter box, fed him, swept my garage floor, sucked up spider webs from my vertical blinds and walls (I KNOW, I need to clean more, shut up), and then, at 11:20p, I went to Vons and got the perfect Pooh balloon to tie to the tiny baby Pooh for my coworker’s baby shower. Then I got to the courthouse at 11:40, just in time to hand over my house keys to my coworker, whom I ran into in the parking structure, who’s going to check in on Dodo while I’m gone next week. Whew! And it’s only 2:38!

Oh yeah, the baby shower was cute. It’s like some huge infant puked baby blue fluffy stuff all over the Judge’s Lounge. (Say that three times fast!)

Now I’m at James’s house, where I hope to manipulate him into helping me wash my car or working out with me or getting drunk at a bar or SOMETHING, until 6:30 when I’m off to jujitsu. After jujitsu ends (about 9p), a bunch of us are going running on a nearby college track.

I’m feeling pretty good about my productivity this week. All I have left to do for tomorrow is pack. Which will probably be a huge disaster and I’ll forget something really important, like my ID or money or dive knife.

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