It has finally started getting nice out again and thus begins the always entertaining "lying to myself" game. The "lying to myself" game is what I call the thing when I am driving to work and I think to myself "Maaaannnn. It is so nice out. I wish I didn't have to work today so I could _________________." Fill in the blank with clean up the yard, go for a walk, spring clean the house or any other activity that would non-lazy people do, probably on days that they do work. Then once I get to work, I'm all angry and like "Damn you work! If it tweren't (yes tweren't) if it tweren't for you I would be being so productive today! I would be like producting the shit outta shit today! Stupid work, making me all fat and slobby." There is also a "lying to myself" three-day weekend edition. That's when I take a Friday off and walk around work on Thursday talking about how much I am going to get done this weekend. "Oh Rachel I see you are off Friday! Big weekend plans?" "Oh not really, I just really want to get my house picked up and go through the closets. Open some windows and air my house out." Whether it be the everyday or the weekend edition, whenever I do take a day off or get a long weekend you can bet I will be doing NONE of those things. Nope, 99.7% of the time my ass will be firmly planted in bed for as long as possible, get up, check facebook, eat, watch TV, eat, maybe do laundry if I have absolutely nothing to wear and at most I'll load the dishwasher. All that other "cleaning, organizing and activity" is complete bullshit. Stop lying to yourself Ray-Ray, you are a lazy bitch and errrbody knows it.
Yes I am! BUT I have created a fool proof plan to motivate me to be un-lazy. Well not so much the cleaning part but the exercising part, I have planned a plan. Here it is. Before I can get pregnant I need to reach my goal pre-pregnancy weight. I tell people it's because I want to prevent any serious weight related health issues but the truth is my friend gave me a bunch of maternity clothes that I can't even fit into now and I need to drop some L-Bs so I don't have to buy a bunch of new stuff, I'm not made of money, I can't afford to pay not only extra dollas for plus size clothes but then add more onto that for plus size maternity clothes. That shit cray. If I plan this right I can not only fit into her old maternity clothes but also wear the clothes I wear now as maternity clothes too. Shameful? Perhaps but I don't care. If someone is spending that much time paying attention to my business that they know I am using my fat clothes as maternity clothes, then they need to get a life of their own or I need to press some kind of stalker charges on them, creepers.
So I tired doing the diet thing and that just made me angry, I am still watching my carb intake, watching being the keyword. I am aware of the ridiculous amount of carbs I am inhaling, which isn't Step One always like admitting you have a problem or realization of some kind or another? See, so I'm doing good! I'm making step one my bitch. So I'm watching my diet and I decided the other day, after watching my sister doing her workout, that I also need to be more active. Thus I fat girl ran, which is closest to a senior citizen's mall walk pace only wayyyy more bouncing going on, I f.g. ran all the way from mi casa to mi sister's casa, 1.23 miles. There I collapsed in her living room and marinated in my own sweat until I could find someone to drive me back to my house. I posted it on Facebook so I could fish for some compliments, which I did receive along with this piece of advice "Tomorrow will be easier! Don't quit" At that point I was like "TOMORROW?! WHAT THE HELL DOES SHE MEAN BY TOMORROW?!" Apparently you have to do this more than once?! Damn. So once I recovered, which was literally 7 days later, I f.g. ran for a second time. This time it was on the treadmill in our basement, and this time it was in my "BRAND NEW RUNNNIINNNGGG SHOOESS!!!! *Oprah giveaway voice* This time was a little bit harder but I made good what I was able to out of a bad situation and focused on my breathing. In, out, In, out, dry heave, in, out. I did notice a big change with that, it was more comfortable to f.g. run if I wasn't huffing and puffing the whole time and I was able to keep my pace up for almost the entire mile. I didn't have to stop and walk nearly as often, which also probably had something to do with my fear of halting on the treadmill and slamming my face into the deck of it. Also I was too tired to raise my arm to hit the "-" button to slow the damn thing down some. I finished a mile and managed to climb our steep ass basement stairs, obviously the house was originally built for a family of mountain goats because it is seriously a workout in itself to scale those bad boys any time. You ever wonder why my jeans look dirty, it's because just doing laundry practically requires endurance training at our house.
I wrote down my mile time so I could google it, not realizing that would actually make me feel worse than the physical part of this whole ordeal. 16:08. Google told me that is like the time a regular person gets when WALKING A MILE. DAMN IT!!! Well at least I got off my butt and did something. And I now had a goal for myself, the next time I would be a little faster and someday I would be able to take pride in my mile time. So 6 days later, I got back on and tried again.
FAIL. I was actually slower, 2 seconds slower. I don't even know how it was possibly. I mean I jogged the ENTIRE F-ING TIME. I seriously think my lung almost collapsed and I had a code red foot cramp afterwards. Regardless I'm going to try it again tonight, I guess. I'm not super pumped and I'm not overly confident in my abilities at all but I have nothing better to do, except for the dishes which sounds equally as torturous. I will go with the physical pain over the mental anguish of loading the dishwasher. And with that I realize how lazy I truly am.
KLoveyoubye.
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