Busy times

Shit, it's been a bit hectic yeah?

I went to London sight-seeing, it was fun, we laughed, we got followed by some creepy foreign guy and I sprained my ankle. Lovely.

Yesterday Gianni decided to tell me that he'd transferred his degree credits to my university and would be joining me. Which is all well and good - and reduces our travelling costs. But, really, if he'd told me what he was doing earlier we could have found somewhere to rent closer to Uni and we could've moved already. Well, never mind - we're just looking now instead.

I've found this ground-floor flat I like the look of:










So we're gonna go have a look around on Monday and hopefully (if it's alright inside) we can start moving our stuff soon. Term officially starts on Monday, lectures don't start until the 4th October - so we'd be cutting it a little fine.

I'd also need to look into getting a transfer at work. Or finding another job.

*STRESS*

In other news - we're crawling towards our deadlines! By the sounds of it, none of us are really having much success with the goals that we've set out for ourselves. Just wanted to say this really, because I figure this blog has fallen through - We might not all of achieved what we set out to do. I definitely haven't lost a lot of weight. I know Marissa hasn't been able to complete her training. And I know Jessica is still smoking. But, y'know - without sounding cheesy, we all at least made the effort. We did something we wouldn't have done otherwise. And stresses aside, I'm really happy at the moment. I haven't weighed myself, but I'm fitting nicely into a size 14 on bottom, size 12 on top... Which, really, is the same size I was wearing before -but I'm happy within myself. 2 months a go, I had a goal to get back down to a size 10 and 140lbs. I don't know how much I weigh at the moment, but I do know I'm content with the way I look.

So yay for that.

Just over a month to go

I don't think I'm anywhere near my target weight - as promised, I haven't weighed myself since I started this. I'm not really that bothered if I hit my weight to be honest. I'm just feeling better in myself and healthier anyway.

The gym is working out at about once or twice a week. It's not as much as I wanted to go but finding the time is hard.

I received a really snotty letter from University yesterday so I have to go have a meeting with the departmental heads. My attendance last year was shoddy. Barely reaching 50% in most modules. However, my lecturers knew I travelled and had basically told me that as long as I kept upto date with my essays and went to seminars they didn't really mind if I missed lectures and got the notes online. Fair enough right? Well... I thought so too. But the letter was basically telling me that I need to go in and discuss my future at the University and discuss steps to prevent a repeat of the previous year "where I was unable to function like a student". I'm going to go in and say "I got an average which would provide me with a 2:1 without even attending any lectures. If you also look at my records you will find that all my essays were in early or on time. I may not have been attending but I was definitely functioning as a student." Fucking boo-yah. They can't kick me out because I've never had a warning before and I passed the year with flying colours, but I just don't have the time or patience for fucking bureaucrats breathing down my neck worrying about their percentages and statistics.. And either way, it's a'ight - 'cause I'm going to be on campus every day this semester anyway. *bashes head and tries to refrain from stress eating*

In other news- I'm going to London on Monday and won't be back until Friday. I was born and raised in the UK and I've NEVER been sightseeing in London. So I'm going with Kirsty and we're gonna have a great time. (And it's only costing us £1 each to get there - I love the megabus!)

FAIL

There's nothing interesting to blog about running in circles, which is what I've been doing. So I haven't blogged. And nothing extremely entertaining or horrible or even remotely interesting has happened to me lately. Until now.

I PULLED A HAMSTRING.

and now I can't run. I can barely walk without looking like an old lady.  So dip me in failsauce and throw me off a cliff.

Gah.

My sisters and I haven't been running together. It just hasn't worked with all of our different schedules. They're the ones who are good about stretching. I roll my eyes and say, "Stretching is for pansies." Well guess what? Stretching is smart. Stretching is brilliant. Stretching is for people who are serious about running. Stretching is for people who know how to take care of their muscles.

My muscles have taken their revenge.

So what am I supposed to do now? This ruins everything! Even with the extra week I gave myself, I don't think it can be done.

To remedy the situation I did what I've always done when I have a problem: I turned to the internet, knowing that it would be full of hope and answers.

According to medical professionals and personal trainers (who blog) it's basically physically impossible for someone with my physical attributes (aka someone who's REALLY out of shape) to train for a half-marathon in eight weeks.

WHAT???

So, Fitness Magazine is a liar. Apparently it takes a minimum of three months to get in shape enough to safely run 13 miles in one go.

This is a really bad time for a reality check.

I'm really really angry.

I'm going to take a few days to make a new goal. Then I'm going to succeed the heck out of it. I'll see you then.

Size 10 Wedding Dress

Just a quick update.

So - I'm all back on track and everything now. I'm still not counting my weightwatchers points, but I'm definitely not over-eating by any stretch of the imagination. 3 good meals a day, and one snack in the evening. I've also been trying to go to the gym 3 or 4 times a week - but I'm struggling with that one. University starts back up in 3 weeks, so my pre-reading has started. I've also (and this may seem strange) started research for my essays. I have so much going on next semester - extra modules, volunteering, work, etc. I'm just trying to get a head start. So I've been a busy bee. Wedding planning all day Monday, on campus harrassing the librarian yesterday and this evening I have to be at Dream Scheme. The way dream scheme works is that the 'troubled youth' of Scunthorpe, do projects/help the local area, and earn points. The more points they earn, the more things they can do. So like, last month - everyone that had over 100 points got to go to a theme park for the day. It's a way of getting all the teens off the street corners and doing something. And I'm pretty much their glorified babysitter. But it's fun - and though some of them are quite intimidating, I tend to have a laugh. (And I get to go on trips for FREE, disguised as a youth worker - mwahaha)

So yes. I've got a busy schedule at the moment. It also doesn't help that the family is pushing for Gianni and I to set a date for the wedding. I'm like "Jeez, Louise - what's the rush?" -- So, even though I've told my Mum there ain't no way in hell I'm walking up the aisle until I've graduated - She's been dragging me around venues and dress shops. Monday I went to 15 venues. FIFTEEN. I didn't even know we had that many places in this small town. I mean, what?? And how am I supposed to know whether I want round tables? Or a horse-shoe set-up? The only redeeming factor about Monday, is that I tried a size 10 (American 6/8??) wedding dress on and it fit. That put a smile on my face ;)

Things to see - People to do. I hope you're all okay.

Time flies...

I wish I could say when you're having fun.

So I haven't been around since the 9th. Yikes! 20 days! Almost 3 weeks.

Basically life and family got in the way. Summary: mom left stepdad 2+ months ago. Just found out that the reason she finally did was that one night while they laid in be, he punched her, repeatedly, in the head. :(

To make matters worse the house that the bf and I rent belongs to stepdad's mom that passed away this past december. He tried to kick us out and then changed his mind and instead increased the rent by $300. Yeah and i forgot to mention I'm on unemployment and make barely enough to pay the rent before the increase.

So that's been my life the past few weeks. Not fun at all. I haven't done the training but I have watched my eating and such.

Classes start tomorrow so I'm hoping with the set schedule I can really set aside some "ME" time.

I hope everyone else is doing well.

Colds? It's August!

So... my kids have colds. I haven't ran all week because here in Oregon our mornings are brisk. Even in August. This is going to put me a little behind on my schedule. That's okay though, because I made allowances for this sort of thing. As long as no more set-backs occur in the next... seven weeks or so, I should be okay. Ha ha ha, yeah right.

Also, my pants are getting tight in the thigh. It's weird, and it bothers me. My husband tells me that it's from muscle, and I sort of believe him because my weight has went down a little and my clothes fit better everywhere else. But... my legs are already like tree trunks... I'm not sure how I feel about this. I'm pretty sure I don't like it. This is my reward for all my hard work? Bigger thighs? It's like finding a sticker in my Cracker Jacks instead of one of those awesome rings.

My Cousin is in Town

And she is the worse influence in my life. Worse than Kirsty. Worse than my little, tiny love for the Green Stuff. Worse than my love for Sambuca and Tequila (mixed together). She's going home tomorrow and everything will be better. I will go to the gym and I'll eat healthier. Because, I'm going to be honest - the past 2 days have been awful... and I feel really sluggish for it now. I don't know how I used to eat all this junk food all the time and function properly. So... one more day of being a little silly and then we're back to normal. Although, I'm not having take-away tonight. I. Am. Not. Having. Take-away. Tonight.

I feel physically sick thinking about how much I ate last night. *shudders*

I'm so excited

You're all going to realise how young I really am right now.

Okay. So I think I told you in another post that the rest of my family were dickin' off on holiday and leaving me on my todd. So I'm home alone for 2 weeks. That's fine, honestly... Well, fine until Gianni goes to work. He works nights. I don't sleep very well in an empty house. Last night it took me 3 hours to get to sleep. Man, I'm so paranoid it isn't even funny. Friday night I had MTVhits on full blast all night, just so there was some noise in the house. I will not look out my kitchen window when it's dark because I'm fully convinced that something is going to jump out at me. My friends tell me I have an irrational fear of 'the man in the garden'. It's not irrational. We've had quite a lot of stuff stolen from our backgarden - so evidently, someone had to have been in there at some point. Durr! My fear of the man in the garden is completely justified. I could never live alone. Ever. Tonight will be better because Kirsty is coming to sleep over. Well, better in the fact that if I'm murdered someone else will be going with me. Not so good in the fact that I always get into trouble when Kirsty is around...

So with me being alone, I'm actually having to cook for myself. Now, I'm not the greatest cook but I like to think what I cook is edible. I had chicken fajitas yesterday and a chilli the night before. Made it all by myself. *smug smile* But I've never ever made a sunday roast. Now, this is why I'm so excited. This is also why I'm so lame. I went and bought the tiniest piece of beef yesterday, its literally the size of my fist. I'm going to cook it, and yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes - and damn it, it's going to taste amazing. Unless, well, y'know, it doesn't. I know I'm retarded. I get that... but I'm literally shaking with excitement here.

The gym went better than expected on Thursday. I did 1 mile on the treadmill (evil, evil machine) and then 5 miles on the bikes. The bikes are now my favourite thing because they're so easy, and you go so far, without really putting in too much effort so I feel better about myself. Haha. The only problem is, all the hard work was destroyed Thursday night when Kirsty tempted me with her special brownies. *cough* I woke up Friday morning, my shins were on fire and my head was pounding. I accused her of beating me up before I remembered I'd actually done some exercise the day before. They're still hurting a little now, but we're going again tomorrow.

I try to stay positive even when I'm struggling. The old Catherine would have gone to the gym once, felt the pain and never went back. And while it does hurt, I just think - God knows how much pain Marissa is in then. I'm indoors, in a controlled environment. She's out there in gale-force winds and a double-pram. Shit, I commend you sweetie! And when I'm naughty with my food and have that chocolate bar, that I know I really shouldn't have, I just think "Well, I'll be better tomorrow." Positive thinking!

On a lighter note - I haven't weighed myself but I just feel tighter y'know? Like my belly doesn't roll over my jeans as much as it used to do. And my jeans feel baggy on my thighs. And my work shirt was really loose last night.

Look. I just smoke, okay?

I'm terrible with consistency and blogging. But fear not, I am capable of doing some things consistently. Smoking being one of them. And hey, don't worry about my ability to quit things, because I did quit taking Chantix.

That's right. I didn't quit smoking, I quit Chantix. It was making me nauseous and look, quite frankly, those pills are my enemy. They want me to stop. It's like when you're in the fourth grade and you have a best friend, but then a new girl moves to town and in your class and she wants to be best friends, too. BUT YOU CANNOT HAVE TWO BEST FRIENDS THAT WORK AGAINST EACH OTHER. So, I pretty much chose the friend who has been there for me longer.

I consider it a frenemy though. In other words, I still need to quit.

And it's not going well at all.

Enjoy the depressing visual so as you all know just how sad and pathetic my life is right now.

Naw

It's my birthday. For my birthday my two yr old got me a couple of epic tantrums and my baby gave me a night of little sleep. Aren't they sweet? And my husband got me a, "You look tired" and a "Why are you so grouchy? It's your birthday, right?"

And I didn't run this morning.

My cousin got in a car accident last night and it took us a long time to hear if he was okay. He was driving and ran a stop sign. In his car were five other teenagers, and in the other car were parents and SIX kids. It was a two car, fourteen people car wreck. Can you imagine? Everyone will be okay, but there are plenty of broken bones. After I hug him I'm going to kill him. So I didn't go to bed until nearly one and then Jack woke up at six. I did look at my running shoes... but I wasn't feeling it. I'll make up for it later. Tomorrow or this evening. You have my word.

Oh, what do I want for my birthday?

A nap.

And if we're really getting fancy, I want a nap without any other people in my bed. I might as well be asking for diamonds. Or a full scholarship to Hogwarts. Or the moon. Or a spaceship ride to Pandora. Or dinner with the Darcy-Bennets. Or a Zebra. Or a lightsaber... you get the idea.

Eggs & Shoes

Hi there.

I've been too grumpy to blog lately. I don't know what my problem was, but I got over it. I decided that I have to do this because nobody can do it for me. And deep down I know that I want to. It's just hard to believe when my calves are on fire and I can't breathe.

The sprinklers at the park malfunctioned last night and went for hours and hours. The track was really wet and as a result, my shoes were slippery. I've had these shoes for eight years. They are my favorites, but apparently they have no tread left. It didn't help that it was windy this morning. My giant stroller was acting like a sail that was pushing me half-a-step backwards every step. I felt like a moron so I wimped out after 3/4 of a mile and I walked the remaining mile. It's okay. The schedule said walk OR run today.

Tomorrow I have to run three miles. I'm scared.

Also, I have learned that no one can run on Pop Tarts. This has been very disappointing for me. I love my Pop Tarts for breakfast. It's my reason to get up in the morning. I've started having eggs instead. I hate eggs.

Here are my running supplies.

Shoes, mp3 player, water bottle [not pictured: beast of a stroller, courage, determination, will-power]

How are you all doing?

Jax/Marissa- Are you feeling better? Still uninspired or going out there and kicking arse? Just pretend that I'm behind you with that foghorn that I told you about.

Jandco/Jessica- How are you coping with the Chantix/Champix? Are they doing good or making you feel like complete and utter shit?

Sarah- Have you gotten inspired yet? Working out? Eating better?

Rainingturtles/Raquel- Are you still doing well with Weightwatchers??

And Lynn and Chris? Come on! Introduce yourself. We don't bite.

As for me - I'm feeling really uninspired with weightwatchers. I haven't really been counting properly. I haven't been eating too much - and for the most part I'm still eating fairly healthily, I just... haven't been writing down. I don't think I'm going over my allowed points though. I've also signed up for the gym. I hate the gym. I honestly cannot think of anything worse. The sweaty old men ogling you in the mirror... My tits killing after jogging on the treadmill. And Fucking endorphins?? What the hell? I never finish exercise and feel good. I feel achy and shit. And the next day I'll just complain about my muscles hurting. But nonetheless, Kirsty signed me up for my induction before I could even say no. That conversation was a funny one. So... We're going tomorrow. We're going to the local college gym, so it's only costing me £16 for 3 months. She wanted to go to our council gym - that was £45 a month. I just laughed and told her I wasn't paying that much for something I hated. So we settled for the crappier gym. Hah.

I really do hope you're all doing well.

I've been bad.

First off, I really didn't realize people had commented my blog so I'm sorry for not responding! I figured that I would receive an email of some sort but I suppose not!

Secondly, I've been really bad about this whole thing. Have I written since my first post? Nope. Have I really watched my eating habits? Nope. Yesterday, my family took me to Longhorns. Yes, Longhorns. Did I order a salad? Nope, I ordered sirloin. I've done a little bit of exercising. On Friday, I went on a ghost tour and walked around for two hours learning about the "haunted" history of St. Simons Island, Georgia. So that was something at least.

And finally, I haven't been adding any posts to help this process along. So my question to you guys: what are you doing to get inspired? I need some help with getting my head in this program we've started!

Thanks for your time,
Sarah

You've all disappeared!

Where have you all gone?

I've been to a family wedding this weekend and I'm going to be completely honest: the diet went out the window. I didn't really eat too much but I sure made up for it in alcohol. We smuggled in our own bottles of cider into the wedding party because they were charging £3.80 a pint! £3.80!! What is that in US dollars? *Scuttles off to google...* $5.92... for a pint of beer. Hah. So we went to the supermarket, bought our own alcohol and smuggled it under our coats and then sneakily poured our drinks under the table. I should be a ninja in my next life or something. So yes, I got very drunk and passed out by 11:30pm (not clever!) and Gianni had to carry me up to our hotel room. But get this, the fire alarm goes off at 3am, we go outside and meet Mr. Michael McIntyre. Now, I'm guessing you American lot won't know who he is so I'm going to provide you with a video outlining his comedic genius:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tqnqe2rDTqI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qd3xHB1yjhY

So there's me - nearly dead, stinking to high heavens and breathing deeply so I don't puke all over the place. My little brother staring (he's in love with the man) and Gianni trying to make a stupid Chuck Norris joke. You couldn't write this stuff! I just wish I ignored all my teachers telling me to leave belongings when evacuating a building! I could have got a picture.

We finally got back in the hotel (it had turned out my cousin had been smoking in his room, idiot) and it took me another hour to get back to sleep as I was trying to find the right position so the room stopped spinning. I was knocked awake at 8am by my Mum telling me we had to get breakfast with the whole family and then I was dragged around Whitby and Whitby Abbey all afternoon. I hate them all. There's no fun hunting Dracula when you're hungover to shit. No fun whatsoever. I have lots of pictures which I'm going to post at the bottom of here. I'm trying to convince myself that I worked off all the calories with dancing and walking around today... but it's in vain. I'll get back on track tomorrow... promise. (The pictures are clickable if you wanna see them bigger)











(Erm, walking up 200 steps isn't ever fun. EVER.)














You can go into the Abbey but they wanted us to pay £6 each and we weren't allowed to take pictures when we got in. Bugger that! I passed out on the grass in front of it before we drove all the way home.

All in all a great weekend. It's not often the family go out like that and I had a laugh. Hope your weekends were all good as well, whatever you did.

Arg (Already running grumpy)

I wondered at what point this would happen. I wondered when I'd begin to resent myself for putting pressure on myself to do this. I figured it would be somewhere around week... I dunno... let's say four. It's day seven - not even the end of day seven - and I'm already there.

My calves hurt. Not like a pleasant sore, or a mild throb. They hurt. Like someone is squeezing the muscles with fiery fingers every time I take a step. This isn't good. I haven't run farther than 1.5 miles in a row. I'm still at the beginning. This is week one!

I think I'll stop this post now because I'm so angry with myself for feeling angry with myself. I don't want it to rub off on you.

I just have to be honest.

I'm sure everything will be better tomorrow. (because tomorrow I don't have to run...)

It's worse than I expected.

So I got here yesterday. Yesterday I posted so I'll refrain from having another bitch fit about the pizza I wanted. You know, the only thing I ate yesterday was a Tuna Sandwich, a plain salad and some melon. By the time we got on the road to my Dad's it was pushing 7pm and we just nipped to the nearest supermarket. So yeah, I'm here. I haven't seen my Step-Mum yet... I'm not avoiding her or anything, she's just been working. I've also offered to do the cooking, so I can keep it healthy. They've agreed. So on the food front things are going okay. And all in all, I was having a decent day. But now my Dad has been called into work. I should really explain what he does... He used to be a taxi driver but now he drives a van delivering vehicle parts for F1 cars. So, he's driving to the South of France as we speak. He'll not be back by Saturday at the earliest so I'm going home tomorrow. A day early but I don't really care. So I have pictures. I like taking them.




He was mardy with me because I wouldn't let him plug his iPod in. Mine is far superior y'see? Mine has the Spice Girls on and Soil. Mine has every single song you could ever want to listen to. When I took this picture I was listening to Barbie Girl. He really doesn't look impressed. But what he will never admit to anyone is that he'll sing the Ken bits for me while I screech the Barbie bits. Oh, I love him. I do.








Me eating my crappy salad with no dressing and no meat.











And me shopping and trying on the most amazing PJ's ever. Right? RIGHT? (I may have a teeny, tiny obsession with cattle) I didn't buy them and it's a good job because I've just had to bail my friend out of Germany. He's spent all his money and couldn't afford the flight home, so like the good friend I am I dropped £110 ($13o maybe?) on his flight back. I hate him. No I don't, I love him. But man-oh-man he owes me. He's been gone 2 months though so I'm glad he's coming back. I missed him.


My friends are on about going to Amsterdam on Monday. I get the impression that American's think Europe is the promised land... Maybe it's because we hate the EU here in the UK? Or maybe because I've been to pretty much every country in Western Europe... But I find it really boring. I've been to France 4 times, the Netherlands twice, Italy once, Germany once, Belgium once and I've lost count the number of times I've been to Spain. Spain is a 2 hour flight from where I live. So... It's just where we all go. Going to Amsterdam on a total whim isn't really a big deal. The only problem is that Amsterdam has some of the nicest cakes in the world and there's no way I could go without binging on the beauty that is dutch cooking (and yes, I'd get baked too).

I'm off to go have a movie night with my cousin. I've got some WW Chocolate Brownies to nibble on. I'm being good. VERY good. :)

Partners In Crime (and by 'crime' I mean running)

Today was my second run and I didn't have to do it alone. My awesome sisters are going to do this with me.  Here we are together this morning. Michaela (in the middle) is sixteen for three more days, and Mirian is twenty-one.

Here's the disgusting thing about Mirian; she had a baby two weeks after I did and she doesn't even look like it. Meanwhile I look like I'm still waiting to have mine. It's not fair. This is her darling boy who enjoyed the whole experience.

Here's the disgusting thing about Michaela; she's weights 105 lbs.

I'm just jealous of them. Oh well.

Nothing much to report. Since it was their first day I redid "day one" on my training schedule. We did two miles, one walking, one running. Mirian said she thought she was going to throw up at the end and Michaela said that she thought she could have kept going.

I felt like I could have too, which is good because in the beginning I wanted to also throw up. So maybe this thing is working.

Michaela's going to e-mail me her thoughts about the experience and when that happens I'll post them for you.

P.S. I just scrolled up to check that picture one more time and I noticed that both of Michael's thighs put together probably don't quite equal one of mine. Actually, if you added Mirian and Michaela's thighs together they would probably be the equivillent of mine. That's so depressing... but not, because that's why I'm here. Right?

I hate you all.

Not you guys. You guys are awesome. I'm on about those blood relatives I call my younger brothers. Now, they are evil. I'm looking after them until my Mum gets in from work (and then it's off to the land of hell I go)... and it's just easier if I show you:



So I just stared and gave them the evil eye and plotted their demise. How cruel is that really? Leaving them pizza for tea? Thanks Mum, you're great. From left to right they're George, 13; Thomas, 10 and Alfie, 6. (Do you like my cow salt and pepper pots? I got them from Spain and I put them in compromising positions sometimes. Haha) Oh, and I love that my brothers are all matching. I'm sure that was accidental. Actually, I know it isn't. My Mum loves buying them all matching clothes. Poor kids.

Today has been... difficult. There's leftover pizza in the kitchen and I'm keeping myself occupied so I don't go eat it. I'm staaaaaarrrrrrvinnnnnnnngggg but waiting for my fella to get home before I eat. There's also the fact that there's hardly any food in the house. My whole family (bar myself and Gianni) are going on holiday next week so my Mum is winding down the food supplies. I guess I'm starving for two weeks then? I think she's forgot I'll still be here. All by myself. OH boo-hoo! Haha.

I also need to go pack for my Dad's. I'm going in half an hour. Haha, can you tell how excited I am?

This is just a quick update to let you know I'm contemplating homicide and when my Mum gets home I'm going to maim her. Bye.

Day # This still really sucks.

I've started taking Chantix. And I'm nauseous. And I'm still smoking. According to Chantix, I have to stop by Monday. Meh.

The hypochondriac in me (which is 99 percent of me) is pretty certain I have lung cancer. The smoker in me (which is also 99 percent...whatever, don't you judge my math or my logic) is still smoking.

Today, whilst pretty sure I'm dying...I took a trip down memory lane.

The first pic is me and Marlboro bundled up together in the winter, cuddling close to stay warm.

The second is me and my Marlboro making moustaches at the bar out of dreadlocks that aren't ours. We have such fun together.

I have many more, but these are painful memories...as I know me and Marlboro will be parting ways soon.

I'll be just fine without you, Marlboro. I don't need you anymore. You're not a cheap date and you demand too much from me. I'll be fine on my own. I swear it. We won't be able to see each other anymore, it'll be too hard for me to walk away if we do. If I see you out on someone else's lips, I'll turn my head. I won't be able to look. I'm getting over you. Or I'm trying like hell to.

But still.

I'm really gonna miss you.

Sarah, intro

HI EVERYONE! I've been trying to give a lot of thought on what I wanted to say in this handy dandy little blog that has been started. I guess the best way is to introduce myself, correct?

My name is Sarah. I live in Brunswick, Georgia and I'm eighteen years old. I'll be starting my freshmen year at College of Coastal Georgia this upcoming Monday, and I'm super nervous. This age is definitely one of those quintessential moments in life where you're thrust into making decisions that will impact the rest of your life. I'm in love with this fandom, and have made some of the greatest friends a girl could ask for. I read entirely too much, and have unrealistic goals of becoming an novelist.

Let's face it...the fandom is not the healthiest of hobbies one could partake in. You are sitting in front of a computer and exercise/movement is scarce. I'm not going to sit here and say there is a particular amount of weight I would like to lose, but I do want to say that I believe getting healthier and exercising more is a must.

Also, I've been writing a story now for quite awhile (longer than I would like to admit) and I really would like to set a goal of getting new chapters out every two weeks. Impossible goal? I think not. If I just put my mind to it and put pencil to.... well, fingers to keyboard, I can get this done.

Story found here (must warn you- it's rated "M" for a reason): http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5732669/1/Kingdom_Come

Nine-weeks. A little more than a month... Is it possible to change your life around. Anything is possible. I want to be healthier, but I also have other goals that I think are important. And what better way to change the course of my life by using the resources of this blog and changing my life for the better. I want to network and help others and myself to get there goals reached. The easiest way to contact me is through email: sarahmendenhall1@aol.com or twitter @ssarrahh1. Seriously, DO. NOT. HESITATE. to talk to me. I'm not intimating at all and I will talk to anyone and everyone that will put up with me.

-Sarah

One day at a time

So yesterday was my day one. Spent the majority of it at my grandparents (Papa/Mama) with my mom. Since they live in the in-law at my aunt's house that also meant I got to see her and my cousin Sabrina.

Sabrina and I talked for over 2 hours on the topic of relationships and such. I really admire her. She's 6 years younger, 24, and just finished up her Masters while working full-time as a special-ed teacher. She did it all in the correct order. Me, I'm doing it backwards.

I don't regret the choices I've made in life. But I do know that many were the wrong choices. I take this knowledge and can learn from my mistakes. I don't feel 29. People that meet me tend to think I'm in my early 20's not almost 30 when the topic of age gets brought up. It's not that I'm immature. It's that I can relate to where they are in life because that's where I am. I'm in college. At the beginning steps of achieving my career goals. I'm also letting myself relax around others. I used to be very very shy. Not one to talk first. I'm getting over that.

Anyway, back to yesterday. On the way to the g'parents house my mom and I stopped to get food to bring. I convinced her to do fruit and cheese instead of chips and dip. I drank water instead of wine. I did my best to conserve as many points (weight watchers, ww, way of monitoring intake) for dinner.

Dinner went well. More than half of it is sitting in the fridge. I ended the meal full. Not stuffed.

All in all, yesterday was a good day.

"One day at a time - this is enough. Do not look back and grieve over the past for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful it will be worth remembering" ~ Ida Scott Taylor

Kicking It, Fool.

Peek A Boo!

This is my introductory post. I'm Jessica and I need to quit smoking.

Please note how I didn't say I want to quit smoking. Because I don't. I'm smoking right flipping now. I love the cigarettes. They're my best friend. They're the best love affair ever. Me and Marlboro are soul mates. We're obviously meant to be. We laugh together, we cry together, we chill out together, we drive together, Marlboro is the first thing I say good morning to and the last thing i say good night to. It's a near perfect relationship.

Except Marlboro is trying to kill me.

I'm almost willing to overlook this.

But I just can't. It's a co-dependent relationship and if I'm honest, it's an abusive one. I take advantage of Marlboro, and Marlboro is going to slowly kill me for it.

So we need to break up.

I'm terrified of quitting. I'm terrified of not quitting.

I'm going to write in this blog and together, I guess we'll find out which terrifies me more.

The plan: Quit by next Monday and try not to kill anyone (myself included). This is as far as the plan goes for now.

Any tips or advice are greatly appreciated.

My dad, who was the ultimate rockstar smoker, told me to take a lot of showers and eat oranges. wth, dad?

My grandpa, who smoked for years and now has emphysema and a terrible time breathing told me to screw it. He had a great time smoking and it was worth it. Thumbs up to Grandpa, who gets me.

My mom's example slapped much more sense into me. She was a nonsmoker who died of lung cancer at a young age.

Now I'm sure you can see where the terrified of not quitting part comes in to play.

Any who. Nine weeks. I can do this in nine weeks. For sure. Unless, you know, I can't.

09/08/10 (or 08/09/10 for Americans *head shake*)

OK, so it's day three. There really isn't much to report. I have been so good with my eating this weekend! But that's only two days and not much of an example of success. I woke up late yesterday and had to rush to work so I didn't take a pack-up and had to buy a sandwich from the canteen. Everyone looked at me funny when I tried to scrape all the marge off the bread (which I would have done anyway even if I wasn't dieting, because some things are just unnecessary in life - one being butter/margarine, urgh). A beef and salad sandwich... with half destroyed bread. Yum.

I don't do well with breakfast. I pore myself a bowl of cereal and only eat half before I feel sick. So, I've bought loads of cereal bars. There are these ones called Oatabix which I've bought a lot of, cause they're only 84kcal and work out at either a point or 1-1/2 WWpts. Nomnomnom.

So with there not being a lot to write on the food front, I'm going to discuss my exercise (or lack of).To the left there, is my route to work. Google maps tells me its 3.5 miles from my house, I honestly thought it was less... I always walk to work on Sundays, because I don't drive and my fiancée works from 5am-5pm. But in the spirit of this I'm also walking to work on Saturdays too. The only problem with me walking to work is that I get really sweaty and start work feeling disgusting. I did an 8 hour shift on Saturday just wishing I could get home and shower.

I don't do any other exercise really other than walking. I dance around the house like anyone else does (you all do that, right?) and bounce on the trampoline and try and kill my brothers... But that's it. I used to swim for my home town back in the day, but I'm not really a fan of the pool anymore. I always go, expecting to be able to keep up my old stamina of 100laps and get really upset when I can barely manage 10. My best friend tells me I should just get over and it go. I agree with her, and seeing as this isn't about making excuses no more, that's something we've both said we'd do at least once a week.

I'm off to see my best friend. Her name is Kirsty... Right, I'm off to go see Kirsty in a minute. We're scrapbooking at the moment... She's making a 'Happy Book' and I'm starting a scrapbook for the wedding. I've been engaged for a year now and have made no plans whatsoever. None, nadda... I want to be graduated first and living in our own house (we currently rent a room from my Mum, nice) and seeing as that's atleast 2 years away, we haven't even set a firm-ish date. I'm going to have the longest engagement known to man. But for now I'm content to be cutting out wedding dresses I like and chopping off the models heads (cause I don't want anyone else face in my wedding book!). Kirsty is quite alarmed by my behaviour because every single time (EVERY.SINGLE.TIME) I chop off one of those beautiful faces I say (in a super creepy voice) "I'LL CHOP OFF YOUR HEAD!" She finds it disturbing, I just laugh. She says every serial killer had to start from somewhere, I laugh even harder and tell her she'd be my first victim.

Now, the only problem with Kirsty is that when it comes to food she's an ENABLER. (I hope she doesn't read this, she'll kill me!) The she-devil tempts me with chocolate and muffins and CHEESE and FULL FAT coke. Before I would have given into temptation (man, it's like I'm on biggest loser) but today I'm going armed and ready. I have a little pack-up! Hahaha. She's going to laugh when I knock on her door with my pack up box but sod her. Evil minx. The thing is, she's a brilliant cook, and after she's stopped trying to force feed me chocolate she'll cook me healthy things. I love her, she's amazeballs.

So I'm feeling really good about this. I'm feeling really motivated and stuff and the weather is remarkably nice outside for once.

On a final note. I'm going to see my Dad this week and that's where the struggle begins. I always feel stressed and shit when I'm at my Dad's (typical Step-Mum/Step-Brother issues) and I usually take up eating. And also, regardless of the fact I'm going to my Dad's I'm still a guest in her (I'm not bitter, no) house so I feel rude if I don't eat what she serves me for tea. I'm honestly a nice person and I don't want to just go and feed myself all week. I sleep at my Grandma and Granddad's when I go down because they're amazing and epic (same thing, I know) and my Granddad always gets a little too drunk and tells me stories of his time as a spy, which he really shouldn't y'know, because of the Official Secrets Act and all that. Haha. I know WAY more than I should. While I'm down at my Dad's I might go to this high-rope thing called GoApe (http://www.goape.co.uk/)... I'm not a huge fan of heights, so we'll see. But that was one of the things I wanted to do during these 9 weeks... Eeee.

Anyway... I'm feeling really good at the moment and we'll see how things go at my Dad's house. I'll keep you posted. I'll be there till Friday.

Hi all, Raquel here

I’ve been staring at a blank page now for hours. Unsure what to write here for my introductory post. Questions flying by in my head.

What do I want? What kind of people do I want around me? What needs changing?.....

Then I had an epiphany, a total “light bulb” moment.

I got on board here with the intention on doing the C25K (couch to 5K) program. It perfectly is a 9 week program and the timing couldn’t have been better.

But now I need these 9 weeks to be so much more than just this. I want to find ME. Not just be healthier and train for the 5K but also work on my inside. But I’ll get back to this in a bit. First let me introduce myself.

My name is Raquel, but I think you knew that already. I’m 29… with the big 3-0 just lurking around the corner. I live in a town that likes to be called a city and is located less than an hour from the real city of New York City.

I was laid off 4 times in the span of 1.5 years. Thanks to the lovely economy. The last time being the February before last. But I took this as a sign that it’s time to do me and do what I want to do. So I went back to school to get my bachelors. I’ve now completed a full year with a GPA of 3.75 (I think, I’m to lazy to look it up) and have just this fall and spring to go. I am loving my classes and my professors and as lame as this may sound, I have such a thirst for knowledge right now I can’t seem to get enough. The next step in this plan is to get my Masters in MHC (mental health counseling) with a focus in adolescents and suicide/self injury, abuse, and PTSD.

Health wise I would probably say I’m the worst I’ve ever been. I’ve been paying Weight Watchers $40 a month for the past 6 months but I haven’t really stuck to the plan. I need to lose probably 70lbs. No one believes me it’s this much but I guess that I’m lucky in that my 5’8 frame holds my weight well.

I’ve recently become a vegetarian that eats seafood… a pescetarian. It’s been 4 months of no cow or pig and about 1 month with no chicken. I’ve also drastically cut down on my dairy intake. The fact that I was able to do this is really what proved to me that I can do things I put my mind and heart into.

I live with my boyfriend of almost 7 years. I’m not sure what else to say on this right now. Let’s just say that this is one of those things that I need to work on (think about) over the next 9 weeks.

So that’s enough about the boring stuff. Basically I’m a sarcastic, brutally honest, and painfully shy person. I will talk about anything and everything and really have no filter or “off limits” topics. But I will make sure this stays PG for grandma, no worries there.

Until recently I usually put others before myself. I’m only now seeing that may not be a good thing. I can’t be there for others if I can’t be there for myself. I’m not sure if this is a result of that but my RL friendships have been lacking. I feel as I’m connecting more and more to the people I’m meeting online than those around me. I’m starting to become on the outside the person I am on the inside. I have a great fear of what people think about me and always feel as if I’m being judged but I’m working on not caring. It’s not easy but I’m doing it bit by bit.

Basically my life need a reboot and this challenge came at a perfect time.

So in nine weeks I’m going to be able to run a 5K in 30 mins. But because the training plan for this (I’m using the one at coolrunning.com) only has runs 3 times a week I decided I want to tackle other hurdles as well so I made a list.

1. Obviously the C25K program
2. Get back to Weight Watchers and tracking
3. Figure out school options for masters and move on that
4. On top of doing the C25K start working out again
5. Figure out what I want
6. (and because I needed to not have 5) figure out my tattoo and get it

Marissa, My First Run

I'm following a schedule I found at Fitness Magazine's website. It's a half-marathon training guide for people who aren't runners. You know, people like me. The guide is set up for eight weeks, but I'm giving myself nine just in case things come up. When you have two kids like I do, things are always coming up...

Saturday was my first morning out. According to the schedule I had to walk/run for two miles. Alright, I thought, that sounds reasonable. I've totally got this.

I'm using a park near my home that has a half-mile track so I can be precise. It's very well kept and not very crowded. I took pictures...

When I decided to do this I could picture myself like a Nike ad. Alone and powerful, running with endless energy, my arms pumping to the beat my shoes make on the concrete...

I managed to completely forget that I have two children who will need to be pushed in my giant double stroller. Now, under normal circumstances, this would be enough to deter me from my quest. Normally I would have thought to myself, "Oh yeah, I have to push that thing? No way! I'm not going to haul that thirteen miles, not a chance!" However, this new and determined me thought, "Aw crap... Oh well." Which I think is an improvement.

Here I am with my twenty-nine pound boy, my sixteen pound girl, my thirty-two pound stroller, and my too-many-pounds self. (The lady who I asked to take this looked at me like I was nuts. "Are you selling the stroller on ebay or something?" she asked. "No," I replied lightly, "just the children." I don't think she thought I was funny.)

So I set off. I decided to just take off and see how far I could get at a light jog. Through the first half-mile I was distinctly aware of the way my rear and thighs were jiggling with every step. Fortunately as I started with the second half-mile I lost all feeling from the waist down and it didn't bother me anymore. I can't believe how out of shape I am. After the first mile I was tired, but still feeling good.

After about twelve feet into the second mile I had to switch to a fast walk. That stroller kills me. I managed to alternate jogging and walking through the second mile and by the end I wasn't looking my best.

But I did it. I'm going to approach this one day at a time. I'm not going to dwell on the fact that a half-marathon is the equivalent of circling that track 26 times. If I do that then I'll just quit right now because that doesn't seem possible for me. One day at a time, one day at a time. I finished my task for that day successfully, and that's what's important.

The kids were pretty good about the whole thing. I wasn't sure how they'd tolerate the same scenery for that long, but they did great. The park is full of people with "doggies" and they kept Jack pretty entertained. Plus he had the promise that we would do this when I was finished.

He had a good time. Quinn got sort of bored watching him swing.

So, all in all, a good day.

Most miles in a day to date: 2
Goal: 13
Total miles in training: 2

Marissa, Day One

Okay, it’s the morning of day one and I’m feeling… nervous.

I’m a spontaneous person. I mean I’m really, really spontaneous. One time I went to work with long blond hair and was perfectly happy with it. I had no thought to change it. On my lunch break I got it all hacked off like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail and I dyed it dark brown. I never know what I’m going to do. I sort of like that about myself, but not always. That’s why this is going to be good for me. Sure it was born out of spontaneity, but it’s not something I can do on a lunch break. It’s going to take a commitment and determination and will-power… basically everything I usually avoid in a task.

So, a little about me: My name is Marissa and in two weeks I’ll be twenty-four. I’ve been married for almost seven years. Haha, I know, but don’t look so shocked. Yes, I got married at seventeen. No, it wasn’t a mistake.

I’m not going to take you through my whole love story because that would be boring, and long. Just know that even though I was really young, it was the right choice for me. I think society doesn’t always give young people enough credit for making big decisions and knowing what they want. And I think that sometimes spontaneity pays off.

I have a son who is two named Jack.

And a daughter who is six months old named Quinn.

This is my family.

I live in the Pacific Northwest portion of the US. As far as friends go I’ve had the same ones pretty much my whole life. Two of them I consider my best friends. I love them both so much, but I couldn’t convince either of them to do this with me. They both gave me are-you-kidding-me faces. I think it’s because they’re used to this. I’m always full of new plans that I never follow through with. Little do they know that this is the part where I change that.

I love popcorn. I love how salty and crunchy and perfect it is. I love M&Ms and root beer. I’m a big Jane Austen fan. I like cheesy romantic comedies and not-scary science fiction. I love painting in oils when I have time. If it wasn’t the marathon, finishing a painting would have been my goal. Maybe next time… Time management is not a skill of mine, but crocheting is. I’m desperately jealous of Catherine’s accent and Taylor Swift’s hair. I’m not necessarily immature for my age, but I am for my life. I don’t like driving beside semi-trucks or chairs that rock without people in them.

I’m pretty sure I offend people all the time. I’m an open book. I do have a filter, but when it comes to the important things I say what’s on my mind. I think it’s because I don’t mind it when people do that to me. I guess some people like to keep their opinions to themselves and think I should do the same. This is me shrugging.

I’m taking a camera with me on my run today so that you can see what’s happening. I’ll try to post those on Monday.

I’m nervous, but so excited. Go us!!!

Catherine, Day One:

So we're kind of using today as a Welcome Lecture. (I'm a student, I have stupid analogies) You're going to know a little bit more about me, and hopefully by the end of the day, I'll know a little bit more about you.

To keep things interesting we wanted varied goals being written about in the blog. But if you are wanting to lose weight, feel free to tag along with the journey VIA the comments. I want this to be as interactive as possible.

Ok, well a little bit about me then, yeah? My name is Catherine (if you haven't gathered that already). I'm 19 years old and I live in a small Industrial town in the North of England. I have a really common (as in filthy, dirty, no bloody standards) English accent - the queen would be ashamed, truly. *Scuttles of and finds an example of someone with my accent...*
Now, obviously I'm not a man, but the way I speak is identical to this, just with a femine twinge to it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WdcJYEWLnc

And really, if we're going down the routes of being common. I am. My Step-Dad is a Steelworker (No.1 industry in Scunthopre, don'tchu know?), my Mum is a Checkout Operator and me? Well, I'm a full time student, working under my Mother's shadow part time. Yuh, I work at a supermarket on the weekends, constantly annoying my Mum with how much cooler I am than her. It's just fact Mum, deal with it. I think sometimes I come off as really confident and/or arrogant, but my sense of humour is really, really, really dry and sarcastic, and sometimes I don't think people know whether to take me seriously or not. Like, when I serve dirty chavs at work and tell them the shell suit they're wearing is beautiful - they don't know whether to hit me or thank me. Most of the time they should lean towards smacking me up the head, but that beautiful bright pink tracksuit I saw the other day, really was beaut.

I have no verbal filter, but for this, I'm trying to keep everything PG-13 (or 12A if you're from the UK, jeez, Americanisms).

So really, you've learned nothing about me thus far, except that I'm working class, I have a terrible accent and I'm super sarcastic. Really, I'm just an average girl. I'm studying History at University, which I think is funny because I hated History at school and didn't do it at GCSE, and I only did it at college because I needed an extra subject... I also volunteer with a bunch of kids in the Council Estates round here, in a project called DreamScheme, it's pretty cool really. I'm a pretty closed-off person in real life. Online I am so open about anything, nothing held back, but in real life, there are only a handful of people outside my family that know anything substantial about me. I'm an expert at deflecting conversations and I've grown to really enjoy my own company. I'm a loner, but never lonely. I don't trust very easily and I don't make new friends easily either. I've had the same best friends for 7 years...

If we're going to be honest. I'm stuck in a terrible rut. And that's another reason why I'm so excited about this blog. I can't wait to shake things up and do some new things. Yes, my primary goal is to lose weight but I want to experience things I've never done before too. I want to do a high rope challenge, I want to go hiking in the Yorkshire Moors and I would love, love, love to start some kind of dance lessons. But it's all one thing at a time of course. Today we're going to start simple... I'm taking salad to work instead of buying chips and crap from the canteen and I'm going to walk the 4 miles to work. I'm not going to fall off the bandwagon. I'm making this promise to you right here and now.

Now, I'm not going to weigh myself again until October 16th. I don't want to get obsessed with numbers... But for a before and after type of thing, here are all my current measurements:

Current Weight: 172lbs
Current Inner Thigh: 25"
Current Bum: 44"
Current Waist: 34"
Current Chest: 43"

I can't wait to get to know all of you as we do this journey. Good luck.

Catherine speaking:

Good Morning/Afternoon/Night/Whatever time of day it is where you currently reside. I could honestly re-write pretty much everything Jax has and be telling the truth. I wake up every morning, wanting to be better. To get out of the house and do something. I've had bin-liners in my bedroom for 2 weeks now, just waiting to be filled with clothes that I haven't worn in years. I am the worst procrastinator ever. But it really is time for a change.

I've been overweight now for a good 2 years. When I met my fiancée in the summer of 2007, I was 16, 140lbs and healthy. I put on half a stone at the beginning of that relationship, which I think is the norm. I then had the birth control implant inserted, which caused me to balloon to 170lbs. Now, I look in the mirror and I don't think I'm so big. I still think of myself as a size 10, but then I see pictures and I see the chub, I see the bigger belly and I see my lack of cheekbones. I'm not a vain person. I'm an average girl, with average views on herself. But I have to be honest and say I'm not happy within myself at the moment. When you mentally see yourself as a size 10 (US size 6/8, I don't know) but you're wearing sizes 14/16, it gets you down. I know I'm not huge by any stretch of the imagination... but I want to be healthy.

I started going to WeightWatchers a month ago after I came back from my holiday and had gained 8lbs (atrocious, I know, blame the All Inclusive). It hasn't really been going well. The first week was fine, when it was new and a novelty. I lost the holiday weight instantly, but that was to be expected, seeing as the majority of it would have been water weight from alcohol. Now in the past 3 weeks I haven't lost any more weight. I know why... I'm not strict on myself, and I don't do enough exercise, and I don't have enough support.

But this blog isn't about wallowing, and it isn't about being negative. We're here for a change. We're here for support in our endeavours. Jax is going to run a half marathon – Jesus Christ, we're going to support her and hope that she makes it. If she's having a rough day, we're going to be here to egg her on and push her motivation. This blog isn't about self-hate. We're going to leave that at the door. This blog is about setting ourselves goals and working as a team to achieve them.

I've been overweight for 2 years. Tomorrow it all changes. In 9 weeks I'll be a slimmer, healthier Catherine. Promise.

Me clocking in at 178lbs. My goal is to be down to 148lbs in 9 weeks.

The Beginning

I guess I’m just tired of myself.

My inner monologue has become nothing more than whining. It shouldn’t be that way. I should be happy. I have a beautiful family, two adorable children, and a hard-working and amazing husband. Shouldn’t I be the happiest girl in the world?

The answer is yes, but the reality is I’m not and I know I can’t blame anyone but myself.

Every day I wake up and tell myself that this is the day. This is the day when I clean my house until it could be a spread in Good Housekeeping. This is the day when I’m going to eat so healthily that veggie-eating rabbits will be jealous. This is the day I’m free of bad habits. This is the day I finish what I start. This is the day when all my clothes are going to fit and my hair is going to shine. This is the day of never-ending patience.


And you know what happens? Well, none of the above. So I go to bed feeling like a failure. I go to bed disgusted with myself for not following through. I tell myself that tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I’ll be successful. And, you guessed it, I’m still waiting for tomorrow.

I’ve had enough.


What I need is a challenge. And I’m not talking about losing five pounds or cleaning out that closet that I need to clean out. I’m talking about a REAL challenge. I’m talking about doing something that’s almost impossible. I’m talking about pushing myself to the breaking point and then refusing to break. I don’t know my limits and I want to. And then I want to exceed them.


I’m carrying forty pounds of baby weight and I’m out of shape. I’m five two and a hundred and seventy-seven pounds. (I’ve never admitted that before.) I’ve been this way since my first child and now I’ve had my second. I hate getting dressed in the morning. I hate seeing myself in the mirror because in my head I still look like one-thirty. I’m tired of myself. And I’m tired of not doing anything about it. I use my lack of athletic skill as an excuse for not getting in shape. I’m like a fat Bella without depth perception. But that’s no excuse. So what if I fall down? Get up and keep going!!!


This isn’t about trying to be someone I’m not. I like who I am. This is just about shaking things up. It’s about getting to know a new side of myself and doing something I always wanted to do but told myself I couldn’t.


In nine weeks, I’m going to run a half-marathon. On October 16th I’m going to run thirteen miles in one day.

What are you going to do?