Ass-Kickin'/Name-Takin' Update & a Lil' Sugasm (129)
I'm sorry to report, minions, that I failed to hit my 10-pound goal weight loss for the month of April. I only hit half that number. Five pounds, so I'm at a 28-pound loss as of today. However, I'm having a seriously hardcore fitness week and will be ending at about 7 hours of cardio by Saturday. I'm already at four. Sweating, huffing, puffing, "kill me now" cardio. None of this namby-pamby shit for me, man.
Come May 15th I'm adding 5 km to my work commute. So, 17 klicks each way (34 roundtrip, 24 miles), optimally three times per week. I didn't get my 10 pounds this month, but life was a motherfucker and threw a dead friend my way, so I couldn't help having that big, beefy, juicy burger and fries and two beers after the funeral. Naturally we had to get Mickey D's before the road trip there. Funerals are a good excuse to throw a diet to hell, as are the days before. You know, from the "___'s dead" call through to the wake. Food works.
But NOW... now there's no excuse and I'm thoroughly kicking my ass, and hurting something fierce. My new bike seat is breakin' me in. Making me its bitch, more like. Oh, god. I'm buying a gel seat, but I'm gonna make myself suffer for a couple weeks first. Bragging rights. Battle wounds, as it were but hopefully won't.
I have, as of today, obtained the weight I need to be in order to skydive this summer. With my history of fucked up injuries, I'm going to have a chat with my chiropractor first, but I suspect a tandem dive should be doable. In which case, my goal's to lose 20 more pounds if it's in June like my friends are inclined to do, or if it's in the summer, 30, before I do the dive. It'll be so cool. I've always wanted to, even though it scares me more than anything and I'm scared of heights. I just figure what better way to give a shiny "fuck you" to the ambivalent chick I've been for so long in regards to, well, toying with death and adventure.
Which feels odd, since we just laid to rest a friend who died adventuring, but I still want to be that way more than anything. I'm sick of safety and boredom and routine. Having something to prove to myself has been a pleasant change of pace. Having an audience for it, such as this blog provides, keeps me accountable. Good thing, too.
So, I've lost 28 pounds. Not too shabby. Really seeing a difference in my clothing, my face, people are commenting and noticing. It feels nice.
Makes the fucking gruel of a bike ride worth it. But I'm starting to enjoy myself (ooh, weird) so I'm pissing and moaning just because it gets it off my chest. But then I think "My pants are crazy loose! It's working!" And I do it again. I mean, I've had to buy new underwear. I've lost that much weight. Feels great. I deserve a moment of smugness. These days, I mostly suffer and groan. Ha. Fortunately, I'm beginning to get fit. Passing people on the bike. Getting cocky. Whoop, there it is. Tee hee.
That's yer update. I can't even wait to see what happens when we start getting decent weather. I'm gonna be upstoppable. And hurling from high places. Cool. Fore? Err... hmm.
Here, eat some Sugasm. You'll feel better.
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