Fattie

So one of my bloggy friends, Casey, over at Half as Good as You is starting a fat camp for us bloggers. But can I ramble off topic for just a moment? Casey’s more like three times as good as me, not half as good as me as her blog title would insinuate. It’s sort of false advertising on her part.

As many of you know, I’ll do anything anyone tells me to. If HeatherPride so much as snaps those well manicured fingers at me, I’m up and jumping. Well, the same goes for Casey. She’s called me a fattie, skinny bastard, rat stalker, a hooker and a few other names I probably shouldn't mention on this site. So, if you insult me on a fairly regular basis, I’ll also do anything you tell me to do. However, I must say in Casey’s defense, I did call her a skank first. Then I tried to apologize and wound up referring to her as a wench.

Also, I must admit that Casey was well within her rights to call me out as a rat stalker too. After all, I did leave a dead rat on her driveway, but it came from a really good place, I promise. Well, not literally. I mean it came from a good place in my heart. I have no idea where the rat actually hung his hat at night.

But this post isn’t about rats, or skanks. (But what if it was? Wouldn’t that be awesomesauce?) It’s about a fat camp or something that Casey has created. It’s called Club Half as Small as You and it’s a brilliant way to bring a community of fellow bloggers together to support and cheer each other on as we strive to meet our fitness goals. I couldn’t be happier or more excited about this challenge. If I could, I would kiss Casey on the face as a sign of gratitude. But since she’s no longer speaking to me, I think that scenario is highly unlikely.

The Club Half as Small as You Challenge begins this week. To kick it off, participants were asked to post our response to the following fitness goal questions:

Motivation:
I am motivated by food or pretty and shiny things. I’m also motivated when people call me names. If I could just get someone to send me a mp3 file where they call me names over and over, I would be so pumped.

Long-term goal:
I want to lose some lbs and tone my flabby self up. I want to get whistled at when I walk by a construction site.

Long-term weight loss goals:
I’m hesitant to say how many inches or pounds I want to lose because I have bloggy friends in Canada. What if I start throwing around terms of measurement that they’re unfamiliar with? They’d be all, “Inches? What’s that all aboot?” Also, someone from the Ukraine frequently logs on to The Bee. They always land on a post I wrote five months ago about Shark Week. Is there some viable shark threat in the Ukraine that I don’t know about?

Another tangent here. When I looked up Canada’s metrification (real word) on wikipedia (real, but not credible site) it said that Canada was considered “soft metric” not “hard metric”. How cool would it be to start a band and call it Hard Metric?

Alright, where were we? Weight loss goals. Let’s just say I want to be down three dress sizes.

Tools available to me:
We have a treadmill and a very dusty elliptical trainer in our basement. We also have a weight machine in the garage that has never been touched with the exception of the time we moved it into the garage. Also, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a few free weights in my house. But why would you want to do that? Why would anyone want to swing a dead cat in my house?

I have three gyms within five minutes of my house, but who am I kidding? The gym? That’s never gonna happen.

How often can I exercise:
I’m going say I’ll exercise five times a week, but in reality, I’ll only exercise three times a week.

What do I plan on doing:
I guess I will have to stop eating a BLT sandwich every night. Oh, how I will remember those sixteen nights of bacon with fondness. Work days are difficult for me when I'm trying to adhere to a diet plan. One of my close friends at work used to be a University of Utah cheerleader and she has the metabolism of a six year old boy. She eats whatever she wants and doesn’t gain an inch, or a centimeter (or whatever “soft metric” countries call it). Since she sits right next to me and eats donuts like nobody's business, it's hard to obstain from fatty foods. I think I offended her one time when she lamented that she was feeling heavy. I was all, “Listen here, size 2, don’t even start with me!” I later found out that she was not a size 2, but in fact, a size 0. Awkward.

My best bet as far as calorie restriction goes would be to bring a lunch to work and store it in the communal fridge. Someone in our office steals lunches frequently, so it’s bound to happen to me at least once a week. Wa-la! Calories gone! Recently, I’ve become quite fond of these Kale shakes that I discovered from a friend. I’ll chug one of those suckers down in the morning, pray my lunch gets snagged and then eat something for dinner that isn’t pizza.

What has worked for me in the past?
Well, I was very thin when I was in high school. It might be a good idea take a closer look at my activities from back then. Let's see, as a teen I would avoid homework, talk in class and cruise by football practice constantly. Somehow, I don't think any of those things are going to magically melt my unwanted pounds away. Besides, I gave up cruising by high school football practice months ago.

Come to think of it, I did drop a bunch of weight when I had walking pneumonia about eight years ago. Maybe I could wander around Target and get a sickly stranger to cough on me. No, I promised Jeremy I wouldn’t do that anymore.

Honestly, I think if I don’t focus on losing the weight, but rather on trying to improve my performance during my workout, I’ll be more successful. I think I’ll try to run another half-marathon next spring. That should get me up and moving. Although, running 13 plus miles? That’s, like far and stuff. Maybe I better stick to the goal of looking tight in a pair of pink hot pants. Shiny hot pants.

Come on. It's not too late to join in on the fun, click here to see how the challenge works. Good luck everyone!