tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43566563593836281932024-02-18T19:13:37.171-08:00Running Away from my Baby ChubAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-53988691849968821242014-09-08T09:31:00.004-07:002014-09-08T09:33:41.319-07:00Getting Back on TrackThis week's the week. The week to get back on track. To start running and walking again. I've been so overwhelmed with weddings and photo editing, that I haven't been able to leave my cushy seat in the house for fear I wouldn't finish editing my photos in the allotted time. <br />
<br />
<b>I will start with Saturday:</b><br />
Though I didn't run any, I volunteered at Saint Arnold where I was on my feet walking back and forth between the bar and the tap getting patrons their desired beer. Surprisingly though, I only took 3,893 steps from 10:00 am - 4:00 pm. I can't see the total calories burned now, but I want to say it was a whopping 60... not enough to burn off the 2 glasses of Saint Arnold root beer and one Endeavor bear. <br />
<br />
<b>Sunday:</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcHx1WMREO4LGZp3AwKgRx-s8kUzGunUiUqUI5kL1tuz5y0Not3dyAr-q2C4t00w0errLMNQr0_kcpssJxGNcFA5qiZY9nDj1bLQQclKipjjJCnQ7OAebc40J89sC72bUEE3U3-jbn_ZX/s1600/HoustonTexasLogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcHx1WMREO4LGZp3AwKgRx-s8kUzGunUiUqUI5kL1tuz5y0Not3dyAr-q2C4t00w0errLMNQr0_kcpssJxGNcFA5qiZY9nDj1bLQQclKipjjJCnQ7OAebc40J89sC72bUEE3U3-jbn_ZX/s1600/HoustonTexasLogo.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
GO TEXANS! Andy and I spent the day with our friends Emily & Derek at the Texans game. We tailgated in the AM then attended the noon game. I had a few adult beverages and took 2,209 steps. Enough to get me from our car to my seat and back again... I have no idea how many calories that is, but it must be less than 60.<br />
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On the plus side, my weight has been steadily dropping little bit by little bit. My eating habits are back to what they were Pre-Tristan, and this month Andy and I have challenged our self to a $0 restaurant budget. That means no calling the nice Chinese guy for take out or chowing down on Whataburger. I will hurt a little to go a month with out Whataburger, but it's good for me. We were getting a little out of control (for me). Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-21778939326190842492014-08-25T09:58:00.001-07:002014-08-25T09:58:40.914-07:00Oh is it HOT!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBcTGUk9PlKw3Wh84SEdhEEV502sLitvb9n7wUIgK7JcfO5zVl7-Ca1Tw6Y0srb6njLNmkKPAfqfDJ9xQaHZ542n1V4mKiHaaebAfOSLOBe07qLekUJwaHCXvyB3Mf2YseT-FB184UoY2/s1600/995604_934210429955306_2066090197846966891_n+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBcTGUk9PlKw3Wh84SEdhEEV502sLitvb9n7wUIgK7JcfO5zVl7-Ca1Tw6Y0srb6njLNmkKPAfqfDJ9xQaHZ542n1V4mKiHaaebAfOSLOBe07qLekUJwaHCXvyB3Mf2YseT-FB184UoY2/s1600/995604_934210429955306_2066090197846966891_n+copy.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>So, there was no running this weekend. I spent Saturday taking care of my 3-month old, then out on the Houston hot-hot-heat to take bridal portraits (I felt bad for the bride, she had to loose 10 lb's in sweat) and a 3-year old photo shoot.<br />
<br />
Sunday, Andy and I had a wedding to shoot from 12:00 - 9:00 pm. It was 100° in the late afternoon. People had to be careful, or they would drop like flies. After photo shoots, my legs feel like rubber, especially after 9 hours of photos. I joke that if I shot weddings every weekend, I would be able to crush coconuts between my legs (my other photographer friends claim that would be untrue). One can dream. Regardless, my weight's starting to look a little better. My mom seems to think I've lost some inches around my waste... that's because it's all falling to my butt and legs. Damn gravity.<br />
<br />
Last week's activity was as follows (mostly walking because it's so hot out right now it's hard to breath). <br />
<br />
<table align="center" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr><td>Tuesday<br />
8/19/2014 </td><td style="text-align: center;" valign="top">Wednesday<br />
8/20/2014 </td><td style="text-align: center;" valign="top">Friday<br />
8/22/2014 </td></tr>
<tr><td><h3>
Run</h3>
Start Time: 8:05 pm<br />
Duration: 15:51 min<br />
Millage: 1.8<br />
Average speed: 3.8 mph<br />
Calories burned: 232
</td><td valign="top"><h3>
Run/Walk</h3>
Start Time: 7:26 pm<br />
Duration: 25:42 min<br />
Millage: 1.41<br />
Average speed: 3.3 mph<br />
Calories burned: 204
</td><td valign="top"><h3>
Walk (with baby)</h3>
Start Time: 7:18 pm<br />
Duration: 9:06 min<br />
Millage: .37<br />
Average speed: 2.5 mph<br />
Calories burned: 70
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-6016003306763733342014-08-13T06:23:00.001-07:002014-08-13T06:23:28.239-07:00Why are you waking me up? It's Saturday... No, It's Wednesday.Things are starting to get back to normal. Family that was in town has gone back home. Andy and I have 2.5 days of normalcy before we dive back into our family overload summer.<br />
<br />
This morning, when my alarm started buzzing (6:40 - begin the hour of the snooze button) I rolled over to see my husband still in bed. He's usually out of the house by 6:40. I told him what time it was and he said, "So? It's Saturday." I then informed him it was in fact NOT Saturday, but Wednesday. So I got up with him and helped get the kid ready for daycare.<br />
<br />
Now that I'm up...<br />
<br />
I decided to take the dog for a walk. I fell like the past few weeks, we've barely paid any attention to her. Yes, she get's to sleep in the bed with us, and she loves to cuddle with my husband, but we haven't walked her or played with her. So off we went.<br />
<br />
Of coarse, I forgot my phone, so I couldn't track the distance walked, or the time of morning for that matter. I just had to guess when I needed to be back home to get ready for work. <br />
<br />
It was a short walk, but the weather was pleasant, and if I can just get past the overwhelming desire to smash my alarm clock in the mornings, I could see myself going for walks every morning. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-50481174134018849702014-08-04T06:46:00.000-07:002014-08-04T06:46:31.317-07:00Yikes! 151lb Weigh-inWeight: 151.6... YIKES!<br />
Time weighed: 8:00 am<br />
<br />
<h3>
I weigh how much!?</h3>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3Et3JMoMHp5fUeONzA4FSEeZOxdKBJBZ-DPrt1zuumhd_TnriKuvNdPMh3uybWfl-WGCik88fu8rg9oj5sHK9xRnvI20XIY9DFa3J7ukkxGxFaRxIYmS1AS20UXrLbZZ-DohsMbap_Qe/s1600/9UF5UiU.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3Et3JMoMHp5fUeONzA4FSEeZOxdKBJBZ-DPrt1zuumhd_TnriKuvNdPMh3uybWfl-WGCik88fu8rg9oj5sHK9xRnvI20XIY9DFa3J7ukkxGxFaRxIYmS1AS20UXrLbZZ-DohsMbap_Qe/s1600/9UF5UiU.gif" /></a><br />
<br />
I wasn't expecting the heavens to part when I stepped on the scale today, but I was hoping for a little better. Family's in town, and with that comes copies glasses of wine, and food. I ate entirely too much fruit over the weekend. Somehow, I managed to plop myself down next to the fruit bowl and lay in it. Crunchy grapes are my kryptonite.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
However, I also managed to mow my baseball-field lawn yesterday, which should have helped. I shudder to think of what my weight might have been on Saturday...<br />
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<h3>
There's been no progress on the <i>fitting-into-my-pants</i> frontier. </h3>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIW_-o_2TT7sWzIGCbVO7ran015vGbDoAQY33C4ohuRm3H_pUs1d3g7mt8T1AwBrSo7NPJS4PPI9F_rnrs1iOpapnTcGl3MLktAOMQFRRrC3k80rBKnslTGdoCec1wZPvrivXvwT75JnY/s1600/mE5gMnK.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIW_-o_2TT7sWzIGCbVO7ran015vGbDoAQY33C4ohuRm3H_pUs1d3g7mt8T1AwBrSo7NPJS4PPI9F_rnrs1iOpapnTcGl3MLktAOMQFRRrC3k80rBKnslTGdoCec1wZPvrivXvwT75JnY/s1600/mE5gMnK.gif" height="183" width="320" /></a></div>
I tried to put on a pair of jeans on Friday that got stuck. I was angry so I tried to force them on... then I heard the ominous RRRIIIIP. <i>Shit</i>. It was then that I almost broken down and went out to purchase apparel that actually fits. It's hot as balls out here and the only shorts that fit me at the present moment are my soccer shorts. Little cloth things that ride up between my legs when I walk. <br />
<br />
Until next time.<br />
Fingers crossed I'm just retaining fluids this morning. <br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-17407642600409312742014-07-30T06:28:00.001-07:002014-07-30T06:32:26.782-07:00Ain't Nobody Got Time for That!Quick little update:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm still here... My running has come to a bit of a halt for the moment. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXokQncQVaE0tG_mR-UfqXDgIx1t3cOQDfkvOFDWND8cVuGs3rK1ATydP2pF6F0gChrJx-7yZsV2P_VB1FohhtJjme3QYZuJtNrHMxsrsVnN3VeEKEE-dtnbd1dO640a4HVRZQr_xZFfXA/s1600/no-time.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXokQncQVaE0tG_mR-UfqXDgIx1t3cOQDfkvOFDWND8cVuGs3rK1ATydP2pF6F0gChrJx-7yZsV2P_VB1FohhtJjme3QYZuJtNrHMxsrsVnN3VeEKEE-dtnbd1dO640a4HVRZQr_xZFfXA/s1600/no-time.gif" height="223" width="400" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
First it was a bachelorette party in Galveston last weekend, now I have
family in town from Seattle. I would get up early and run in the
mornings... but I like my sleep. Maybe I can just exercise in my sleep?</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJffS0e19OpBPpN4adUUC5K0akESNPO0y5yf0O5UrE5EsqIXol83OV26l3-VObumYPeme7vqV2nxcB68qD_lJKnye5DMN_DT6JWCFiKF-0iEzP9wQhyXZCAsjINX319xLLUmXmxh5VToF4/s1600/tumblr_n2plxrxOtO1tvkuk4o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJffS0e19OpBPpN4adUUC5K0akESNPO0y5yf0O5UrE5EsqIXol83OV26l3-VObumYPeme7vqV2nxcB68qD_lJKnye5DMN_DT6JWCFiKF-0iEzP9wQhyXZCAsjINX319xLLUmXmxh5VToF4/s1600/tumblr_n2plxrxOtO1tvkuk4o1_500.gif" height="320" width="313" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-70521471431394316352014-07-23T20:01:00.000-07:002014-07-23T20:29:49.757-07:00The Wednesday Walk - 7/23/2014<table border="2" style="height: 381px; width: 498px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><h2>
Monday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Tuesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Wednesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Thursday</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h3>
<strike>Run</strike> Mow</h3>
Start Time: 7:59 pm<br />
Duration: 19:15<br />
Millage: 0.8<br />
Average speed: 2.5 mph<br />
Calories burned:150<br />
<br />
Weight: 148.2<br />
Time weighed: 11:00 </td><td valign="top"><h3>
Run </h3>
Start Time: 8:20 pm<br />
Duration:16:26<br />
Millage:1.19<br />
Average speed: 4.4 mph<br />
Calories burned: 139<br />
<br />
Weight: 147.4<br />
Time weighed: 8:00</td><td valign="top"><h3>
<strike>Run</strike> Walk </h3>
Start Time: 6:30 pm<br />
Duration: 24:21<br />
Millage: 1.63<br />
Average speed: 4.0 <br />
Calories burned: 201<br />
<br />
Weight: 148<br />
Time weighed: 8:00</td><td valign="top"><br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h2>
Friday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Saturday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Sunday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<h3>
Wednesday </h3>
I was intending to run a little harder and a little longer today, that was why I left Rita at home. That and because I decided to hit the pavement a little earlier and I felt bad about the heat. Pore Rita tries to veer off the path after the first lap. Cursing me under hear breath when I coax her to continue for 2 more laps. I know how she feels.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wC60gXEKnlkl_m2SkkHzvaOMww_a0NLBFXWyBegmQsNuxyfNaiY__ebVMAN7gtfRQ7Wcs605PNqb5EpFnoyhg9zodG4WWk6f4whXqJWVN2bOg7ZUXt9h24tIV7qy5iN32TFNqaWGy9Un/s1600/didnt_run_today.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wC60gXEKnlkl_m2SkkHzvaOMww_a0NLBFXWyBegmQsNuxyfNaiY__ebVMAN7gtfRQ7Wcs605PNqb5EpFnoyhg9zodG4WWk6f4whXqJWVN2bOg7ZUXt9h24tIV7qy5iN32TFNqaWGy9Un/s1600/didnt_run_today.jpg" height="250" /></a>This weak hasn't really worked out well for me. After the first little jog, my phone rang -- which was nuzzled nicely between my boob and my bra. My mom. I ended up talking and walking for 4 laps. Granted, it was one more lap than I've previously done, but it was still a walk.<br />
<br />
Also, I found out today, my brother's caught the running bug. I would say there must be something in the air, but he lives 500 miles away. Guess we're just creatures of habit, and by that I mean, gluten's for punishment. Matherly means Martyr for life. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-10745352981442622432014-07-22T20:44:00.000-07:002014-07-22T20:56:05.023-07:00Tuesday - Hot as Balls - 7/22/2014<table border="2" style="height: 381px; width: 498px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><h2>
Monday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Tuesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Wednesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Thursday</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h3>
<strike>Run</strike> Mow</h3>
Start Time: 7:59 pm<br />
Duration: 19:15<br />
Millage: 0.8<br />
Average speed: 2.5 mph<br />
Calories burned:150<br />
<br />
Weight: 148.2<br />
Time weighed: 11:00 </td><td valign="top"><h3>
Run </h3>
Start Time: 8:20 pm<br />
Duration:16:26<br />
Millage:1.19<br />
Average speed: 4.4 mph<br />
Calories burned: 139<br />
<br />
Weight: 147.4<br />
Time weighed: 8:00</td><td><br /></td><td><br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h2>
Friday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Saturday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Sunday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<h3>
Tuesday </h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jVGJFEwIgRIWKL9JWaZIhQ_rWusKBIAr0nDFYP8RX-Z9CZglG9CUIgAT7mD8ZHqryvCOXU1SzzEJAN7T43j28NVVCmvOiQgq29cc7dRJ14VpNYxoA8ayVPDKD4X_vluFpDNIagK7fp59/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jVGJFEwIgRIWKL9JWaZIhQ_rWusKBIAr0nDFYP8RX-Z9CZglG9CUIgAT7mD8ZHqryvCOXU1SzzEJAN7T43j28NVVCmvOiQgq29cc7dRJ14VpNYxoA8ayVPDKD4X_vluFpDNIagK7fp59/s1600/photo.JPG" height="300" /></a></div>
Today, I ran instead of mow. : )<br />
It was hot as balls, as you can see by the title. You know that feeling where you're drowning? Yeah, it was sort of like that, only I was drowning in the Houston air. It makes you laugh a little thinking back to the World Cup, when the announcers were talking about how HOT and HUMID it is in Brazil. The only thing I've got to say about that is, "Man up."<br />
Been there, done that, and I've got the t-shirt to prove it. <br />
<br />
I didn't quite manage to run the entire 3 laps today. I had to stop a few times, I felt like dinner was going to make a reappearance. I've got to say, Whataburger is delightful, but only in one direction... down. Needles to say, one should not devour a Whataburger meal 15-20 minutes before a run. I know better. I used to never eat before a run. Oh, how times change when you have a kid, and any chance you get to eat in peace -- you take!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-2503989044065694602014-07-22T07:06:00.001-07:002014-07-22T07:06:26.627-07:00The Monday Mow (Not run) - 7/21/2014<table border="2" style="height: 381px; width: 498px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><h2>
Monday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Tuesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Wednesday</h2>
</td><td><h2>
Thursday</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h3>
<strike>Run</strike> Mow</h3>
Start Time: 7:59 pm<br />
Duration: 19:15<br />
Millage: 0.8<br />
Average speed: 2.5 mph<br />
Calories burned:150<br />
<br />
Weight: 148.2<br />
Time weighed: 11:00 </td><td><br /></td><td><br /></td><td><br />
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><h2>
Friday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Saturday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
Sunday</h2>
</td><td valign="top"><h2>
</h2>
</td></tr>
<tr><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td><td valign="top"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Monday</h3>
I took Tristan to his 2-month check up. We talked to the doctor about his (going-to-bash-my-brains-in) crankiness that starts from 5:00 pm - bedtime. All of my mom's friends kept telling me it was colic, but the crying only really starts up in the evenings. "He's perfect." according to our daycare. So it's just us? Our baby hates us. : (<br />
<br />
No, he doesn't hate us, or at least he doesn't hate us until we take him to the doctor to get tortured (shots).<br />
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Apparently it's just a phase. Baby's get cranky from 2-weeks - 3-months. Hopefully this phase will end soon.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNQS9s2cJG5U5biDhfnymrUFURVH8NC1ZyU_7PXeR2gKM4C2AJt7UvHPWKBkht5kdDzLX1ocm2ghBX-eGxnIISrwJqVaT4GBz6hh1aZvrG6njmyYsCyCo69BXakJL7lVeLiLoUKysv3Em/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNQS9s2cJG5U5biDhfnymrUFURVH8NC1ZyU_7PXeR2gKM4C2AJt7UvHPWKBkht5kdDzLX1ocm2ghBX-eGxnIISrwJqVaT4GBz6hh1aZvrG6njmyYsCyCo69BXakJL7lVeLiLoUKysv3Em/s1600/photo.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><br />
When I got home, it was 100° outside and felt like I was swimming in the humidity. I decided to wait until 8:00 to run. Let the temperature drop to a more manageable one. Then my husband got home and reminded me we needed to mow our baseball-field-size yard. Sigh. So, instead of running, I mowed for 20 minutes... and got grass in my eye. That was the end of my night, because grass is yet another thing I'm allergic to. I tried rinsing it out with water, my husband chased me around with eye wash solution (I hate eye-drops), nothing helped but closing my eyes and going to bed. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04927773490770794304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4356656359383628193.post-60635770893167827682014-07-20T21:58:00.000-07:002014-07-23T20:22:24.320-07:00Getting to know me, getting to know all about me...Hello readers,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04yXCYnytU6Et8iezz5Er3TAA9ugE2CQhxLbyimXSIvYtRyLkxTryJITvxcWWwTlimOtjVM-zuQc6zzHjjwFiHMhZBdaAiW_k9RI-PUkXiZwtU_w2vxAhDAsJLM6EjBaP8O8sExPjRHWV/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04yXCYnytU6Et8iezz5Er3TAA9ugE2CQhxLbyimXSIvYtRyLkxTryJITvxcWWwTlimOtjVM-zuQc6zzHjjwFiHMhZBdaAiW_k9RI-PUkXiZwtU_w2vxAhDAsJLM6EjBaP8O8sExPjRHWV/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a>Welcome to my blog dedicated to recording my experience and progress as I attempt to loose my baby weight and get back down to my fighting weight.<br />
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A little about me:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKdfYeqt5JB0DCT3b2-31BpYh1StnenzDLit8Ji-DlkmVf1lkPIs_xAxbmKDMbfqGkUiyDbPPrTOc86haX99mIqr2rM5udwgu3LTlRBvweJC8gPY5otUp-JyL90wQpyoSduck5YQHmx_r/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKdfYeqt5JB0DCT3b2-31BpYh1StnenzDLit8Ji-DlkmVf1lkPIs_xAxbmKDMbfqGkUiyDbPPrTOc86haX99mIqr2rM5udwgu3LTlRBvweJC8gPY5otUp-JyL90wQpyoSduck5YQHmx_r/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><i><b>My family:</b></i> I have a 2 month old eating, pooping and farting machine... Tristan. He is our first baby and we love him to death -- when he's sleeping. My husband, Andy's a type 1 diabetic. What does that mean? In a nutshell, when Andy was 7 his pancreas basically said screw this shit, I'm moving out. He hasn't seen it since.<br />
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My brother and I have been on diets our entire life, not because we were pudgy children, because our parents have been on a diet our entire life. That being said, I'm pretty good about eating healthy (or quasi healthy). There's always at least one vegetable of some kind in the meal.<br />
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<i><b>Bad habits:</b></i><br />
<ul>
<li>I LOVE diet coke. It's my vice. I don't drink it because it's low cal, I just love the taste. "Nectar of the Gods," according to my brother. </li>
<li>Carbs. If someone told me I would die in 3 days if I didn't stop eating carbs... (pre-Tristan) I would have shrugged and taken another heaping bite of my mac-and-cheese. </li>
<li>I'm not that good about eating protean</li>
<li>I don't drink enough water (who does?)</li>
<li>I hate breakfast. I tend to skip it, or replace it with 2 cups of coffee. </li>
<li>Beer. I love beer (even though I'm allergic to Barley, sad I know)</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMfPPUz11_O6_ypGuklVYpBzgAEG15cyzWIJJyB2a804qSgJfZPcBUn_TxUiuf0Vwaq7aKGfPCokgVo0EGsSqzmhzxFJSH_Mff-P-fxPjX5_tX7cAe8bsJpSJcTQ5-DP6yZCux0amPSd9/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMfPPUz11_O6_ypGuklVYpBzgAEG15cyzWIJJyB2a804qSgJfZPcBUn_TxUiuf0Vwaq7aKGfPCokgVo0EGsSqzmhzxFJSH_Mff-P-fxPjX5_tX7cAe8bsJpSJcTQ5-DP6yZCux0amPSd9/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><b><i>Statistics:</i></b></div>
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Gender: Female (duh!)</div>
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Height: 5' 1"</div>
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Current Weight: 149.6</div>
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Goal Weight: 125</div>
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FYI, based on my calculated BMI (28.3), I am almost obese (30). Really!?!?</div>
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I don't, nor have I ever, owned a scale. I didn't even pay attention to my weight at the doctors office when I was pregnant. I believe I tipped the scales at 160-something-or-other at one point. So the hardest part of this blog is going to be keeping up with measuring my weight. </div>
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<i><b>Why am I doing this?</b></i> Because I am (next to my brother and father) the cheapest person I know. I refused to purchase maternity clothes when I was pregnant, and I can barley squeeze into my old pants now. My husband continues to tell me how beautiful I am and that I am perfect the way I am... blah blah blah. That still doesn't help the fact that I can't zip up my favorite pair of jeans, and my boobs muffin top out of my favorite bras. </div>
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<i><b>What am I going to do?</b></i> Run, or jog really. Our dog, Rita also needs to loose a little weight, so she is going to join me in my running endeavors.<br />
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