More Ass-Kickin' and Name-Takin'

I've been waiting for this. A long, long time of waiting.

Tonight I got off the bus and stood roadside waiting for the crossing light so I could cut up the back alley home. I stood there on the curb, my left leg extended out and me standing with good form, and I noticed something new...

...I felt strong.

Like, "just try me" kinda strong. Wrestling-in-bed-and-winning kinda strong. Ooh!

You have to keep in mind, in the space of a single decade, I was thrown mid-jump from a horse in the Yukon, was in the car in no fewer than four car-totaling accidents (only one my fault), fell down a flight of stairs, nearly died after somersaulting off my scooter after crashing into a friend's ride (nevermind the list of injuries...), three blown knees, three concussions, one major, and just general all-over fuctedness from either stupid timing, bad luck, or both. 

Hey. It was a fun decade. That I can even still walk fuckin' baffles me let alone this living a life thing. I'm the original poster child for "safety first", man. When I'm getting fit, it generally involves a world of hurt. For a very long time. Inflamation, cramping, ice bags, and post-workout hell. 

Somehow, I just never get to the "strong" phase. Or never did, rather, until now. This is a new feeling. Strong. It feels good. Hot. Me likey lots. I'm a tough chick. That I feel like one? Fuckin' a.

Coming up is the exciting, fun world of buying clothes for my getting-toned body. In another week or so I'll be getting my bonus and other money, and I can finally go ahead and get some clothes. Not too many, of course, because with 20 pounds down, I'm on a roll. More ass-fab spiffying to come.

End of post. But, if yer interested...

Finer Points on the Weightloss Approach I'm Taking:

I'd have to say the yoga's helping me get past the workout pain, and is also mentally preparing me for the mind-over-matter awareness required to really be conscious of everything I'm eating. I'm still doing MyYogaOnline in the comfort of my Joe Boxers on my living room floor. All these studies coming out saying that fat's contagious, or genetic, or whatever the fuck -- I beg to differ. I think fat's about unhappiness, a lack of fulfillment (from our shallow modern lives filled with gadgets aiming to distract us), and is emotionally based. Me, I know what drives the eating and all that. It's about 12 different kinds of fear and lack, and a lot of ignorance. Where do I begin? Yeesh. So don't fucking cop out and use the "but studies say" crap. The yoga has most definitely  been instrumental in mebeing able to flip a mental switch and say "I don't need that" and practice focusing on exactly how my stomach feels then. Empty? No. Then I don't need to eat. I keep reevaluating as the day progresses, and more often than not my stomach doesn't feel empty... now that I stop to think about it. Funny how that works.

Also, kudos to my boss, who, since I work in the film industry on one to three different shows every day, doing closed captioning, has been assigning me all the fitness shows we do. I'm learning a lot about the need for caloric consciousness and can't believe how easy the actual doing of losing weight is now that I'm better informed about my choices. The strength to do what's right, though... whew. Some days are easier than ever. And here's wishing everyone would fuck right off with the seasonal chocolates. Holy test of will on a daily basis, Batman!