May 28th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

I was talking to a friend recently about how her husband grew up in hell and she grew up in Disneyland (it’s a whole other blog post subject, but roll with me here) and ever since then I realized how amazingly lucky I am to have married a man who makes every day like Disneyland.  And that’s saying a lot. I love Disneyland . . . and I love my life with my unbelievably amazing husband even more.

Four years ago today Matt and I were sealed for time and all eternity in the Salt Lake LDS Temple.  True to (my preferred) form we were married in my equivalent of a castle and it’s a day I will never forget.  We promised to love each other for eternity and I am so grateful to know that ours is a bond that will never be broken.  Not even by death.

My fairytale life continued that day with a wedding reception that was a dream come true.  We had perfect weather, in a perfect place with the perfect crowd of loved ones to celebrate our love with us.

I married a man who puts me above anything else.  Who laughs when I laugh, hurts when I cry and makes sure that I know I am the most important, beautiful thing in the whole world.  I have said it a million times . . . I don’t know what I did right to deserve him.

Every single day I marvel at the man I was blessed to marry.  Our separate lives have meshed into one and I cannot remember my life without him — nor do I want to.  He is my everything and I want him to know that this has been the four most amazing years of my life and our eternity is going to be even better than Disneyland.

May 19th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

Total number of days on diet: 17

Amount of dairy eaten: almost none

Pieces of bread ingested: 2

Pasta eaten: 1 bowl

Fruit consumed: many, many pounds

Vegetables eaten: more than I care to think about

Chicken breasts boiled and tastelessly thrown into mouth: about 10

Salmon filets grilled: 5

Boiled egg whites eaten: at least a dozen

Bottles of water poured down my throat: Two full Costco pallets

Total number of body torturing weight training days: 9

Cardio workouts: 6

Pounds lost: 2. TWO.

Excuse me while I go drown myself in my Costco water and drop a 200 lb weight on my head.

May 14th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

“Did you just say ‘oopsy daisy?’” Yes. Yes I did.

I also just ate not one but THREE Paradise Bakery cookies.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Not that I was really all that mighty. It’s only been a week and a half, after all. But I like to think I was mighty. I mean, hello I’ve been eating hard boiled egg whites for breakfast every day. Sheer willpower is what that takes, I tell you!

But seriously? If I didn’t hate throwing up more than almost anything else in the world (honest to goodness, I’d rather have Flying Pig Flu, Pneumonia, Strep Throat, a hernia, a dislocated knee, a club foot and the runs ALL AT THE SAME TIME than throw up), I’d run to the bathroom right now and purge myself of this horridness. I don’t ever recall having felt so disgusting. My stomach is mui mad at me, and so am I for that matter.

And now I must go face the wrath of Bob. Bob is my trainer. He’s huge. And mean. I’m scared.

May 11th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

So I had this whole plan to write a loving tribute to the fabulous Mothers in my life and then POOF! My life exploded, I was late for church, I had to prepare dinner for my in-laws and all of a sudden the day was gone. So I didn’t. Mom’s I love you thanks for all you do. There. Tribute sucks, but it’s done.

Those of you waiting with baited breath for my next trainer update will be happy to know that after completing the back workout on Thursday and the KILLER leg workout on Friday, I was unable to bend at the waist or the knees all weekend. And I thought I missed the use of my arms!

Despite my handicap, I was delighted to start eating pasta, sugar and dairy again, if only for the weekend. I ran as fast as I could on Friday night to The Olive Garden to get all three in as much as I could in one meal. Much to my chagrin, I was only able to eat one breadstick, half a bowl of Minestrone soup and about four bites of my delicious Baked Ziti. This continued for the rest of the weekend. I could only eat half my mashed potatoes, a few small bites of pizza and I felt absolutely disgusting after eating one Ooey Gooey Cupcake. WHO AM I AND WHERE HAVE THEY TAKEN MY SOUL???

I’m back on the diet wagon and today I have only had an apple and two boiled egg whites. Mmmmm tasty. I bet you’re jealous. Tonight we start the workout all over again with shoulders and chest. If I haven’t mentioned before that my shoulders are the wussiest part of my body, let me just admit that now and admit I’m dreading tonight. I’m also dreading what the trainer calls “Ataris” for my abs. I can’t find a link to explain it but I’m pretty sure the Chinese used it as a form of torture in the middle ages. All I can ask is that you all pray for me to have the strength to endure my trials. My self inflicted, not exactly cheap, good for my body trials.

I guess now that I say it that way I take it back. I’ll report back tomorrow.

If I live that long . . .

May 6th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

When you write the first draft of a post and leave it at the BOTTOM of the post when you publish??

Hope you enjoyed that last couple of repititory paragraphs, freaders!

Oops.  My bad.

May 6th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

Last night I had my second workout with the trainer. Day 1 was shoulders, chest and lower abs. Day 2 was biceps, triceps and all-over abs. Day 1 + Day 2 = No remaining core strength and arms that are about as useful as a strand of cooked spaghetti. Seriously. Ow. (Um, sidenote? Will someone explain to me how ab workouts make ones hip flexers hurt? Because oh they do.)

The hilarity of my evening began right as soon as the workout was over. I grabbed my stuff and (painfully) and hobbled to my car. Now, I drive a sturdy German car with a sturdy, heavy steering wheel. I didn’t think of how difficult it would be for my spaghetti arms to steer. Let’s just say it took about five minutes and a lot of convincing to make my arms do anything that resembled steering. I’m very lucky that most of the twenty mile drive home is on a straight freeway. Seriously.

Now we’ve established that I drive a sturdy German car. What I left out is that it’s a sturdy German car that’s really low to the ground. Getting out of it on a normal day Is hard enough. Now imagine not having any sort of muscle system with which to assist getting out. It was like . . . Jell-o attempting to climb out of the mold. NOT SO EASY.

I finally succeeded in getting out of the car and hobbled inside and collapsed on the couch. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly about THAT decision because I was starving and hadn’t eaten since my lunch of trail mix and a boiled egg. (So not kidding.) Getting myself off the couch may be the best moment of my day. I attempted to push my upper body into a sitting position, only to be foiled when my core AND arms refused to cooperate with my brain and I was only able to lift myself about an inch. I collapsed back down, defeated for the moment and tried to decide what my next move was. My solution? Beached whale. (Explanatory tangent: My freshman year in high school we had an all school assembly in which the student counsel put together small skits before each act was introduced. The one that sticks out in my mind is Amy Groesbeck as the beached whale. She must have been in eighteen layers of white clothing, rolling around on the front of the stage while Danny Kranny looked at her and asked what was wrong. In a low, drawn out voice she just kept repeating “IIII’Mmm beeeeaaacchheeeed.” Again and again Danny asked “what are you DOING Amy?” and she’d just shout “Beeeaaacchheeeed! I’mmmmmm beeeaaaccchhheeed!” and eventually the skit was over. It might not sound funny now but at the time? It was hilarious.) So long story short, THAT is what I did to get off the couch. I held my arms to my sides and rolled right off. Then getting off the floor was another problem . . . but eventually I did and got some food. Then I laid back down on the couch . . . and had to do it all over again when I wanted water. Sigh.

NOW for the shower. OH THE SHOWER. I was so stinky and sweaty and had to shower. But, you see the problem right? I CAN’T USE MY ARMS. Don’t worry, I made Matt come wash my hair. Which he’s never done before. And I have very long, majorly thick hair. So a boy washing that? FUNNY STUFF.

After the shower I climbed in my nice, comfy bed and proceeded to sleep terribly because every time I had to move I had to wake up and slowly roll over. Whale style.

Seriously?! Ow.

May 4th, 2009 by Kateastrophe

Remember last year when I went all workout gung ho? Then I just sort of . . . stopped?

Well, I haven’t been “off” the wagon but I definitely haven’t been “on” the wagon either since then. I just sort of . . . hung on to the wagon? All while gaining weight and getting back up to the number I swore I would never, ever, ever see again. Stupid number. Stupid scale. Stupid yummy food.

Well, today, that all changes. I’ve signed up for a Bikini Body Challenge that start today and goes until July 31. I’m working with Bob, a ‘roided out, scruffy voiced giant hulk of a man who, when he found out how far I live from his gym? Told me he’d kick my butt EXTRA for my trouble.

Hold me, I’m scared.

The training is four days a week, 45 minutes each time I go. It comes with photos (shoot me now) a body scan (slit my wrists) and a body mass index analysis (cyanide? Anyone?). I’m terrified to find out how fat and out of shape I really am. It also comes with a food plan (seriously. My life needs to be over) and I’m sure they’re taking away my carbs. Oh how I’ll miss them.

So folks, pray for me. The girl I know who recommended this trainer came back after her first day of working out with SWOLEN ARMS. I’m not even joking a little bit. Be prepared for some serious Kate whining.