The Treadmill

The Treadmill is a demon.

First, running is hard. You might think it's all fun and games and easy because you did it when you were a kid, but when you don't do it for awhile, it's hard. It's tough.

Wearing shoes is tough, too, when you don't like shoes.

I figured there was no point to "diet" but there is all the reason in the world to make lifestyle changes, seeing as how I don't want to die and all. So I got a treadmill and a spin bike and figured I would change up my routine, starting with eating more protein and starting the Couch to 10K program. I want to run again. I like running. It's a good meditation when you get in the zone, at least that's how I remember it. Maybe I dreamed that part, I don't know.

I laced up my sneakers, got on my treadmill, started running... and busted up my toenail. Yeah, that's right. I ran my toenails right off my foot. W in T everliving F, right?

I tried Pair of Shoes #2. Still not happy. Off came the shoes. I don't like wearing shoes on the best of days, let alone on days where I actually have to do stuff. Barefoot was my last option unless I wanted to wear flipflops on the treadmill. Even I am not that crazy.

So off I went.

It was beautiful.

I ran, I soared.

Until about 20 minutes in when basically I was running on hot lava. Treadmills get pretty warm under those conveyer belts and that energy transfers up - - - into your feet.

Meanwhile, who in the world ever thought it would be a good idea to run on a conveyer belt?

So my feet were in a deadly inferno fire. But whatever, being the Buttercup that I am, I sucked it up and dealt with it. It was pretty good, overall.

I have tried shoes multiple times since. I still hate them. If my feet didn't melt every time I was given'er on the old conveyer belt, I wouldn't even worry about it. Looks like I have to go buy some barefoot running gear.

The Demon is not letting up with the lava. So I need lava shoes.

Just a Little Taste

So, we did our weigh-in together, and took pictures of each other. Our general consensus was "WTF" when everything was said and done. It's a good thing we like ourselves, and each other. If honesty is the best policy and communication is the key to great relationships, well, we have great relationships. And that's all there is to say about that.

We have discovered that protein shakes are not exactly gourmet fare. People guzzle down these drinks all the time but they're freaking liars if they say those things are yummy. That being said, there are lots of things you can add to those shakes to make them a little more delectable.

Believe me, I have done it. I have researched the vast corners of the internet and found recipes to make things better.

I have discovered The Tastes of The Quest.

I will share these with you, sometime, but let it be known that I am not above trying anything to make protein taste better. So before long, I was telling the girls all about these recipes and then once kitchen duty paid off, inevitably asking, "Wanna taste!?" once I found some good prospects.

Oh yeah... "Gimme a taste!" was the reply.

So I was on a Taste Hunt. I found baking extracts and coffee flavour shots and powdered drinks and water flavourings, among other things.

I now have a "Taste This! Cupboard" where the goodies are located. I concoct recipes and try new drinks daily. We try just a little taste of just about every thing.

We are good for each other. We support each other emotionally, through everything. Good days, bad days, skinny days, fat days, weigh days, cheat days, cheat weeks, lying about cheating and even planning future cheating are all fair game for us. You need a good support system if major changes are going to work in your life.

That's the key to a great relationship: trust, communication and support.
And sharing your tastes.

Our Last Supper

Now, I can't speak for anyone else but remember, I am not flying solo on this journey. Some days, I do venture out into this vast world alone, but there are many times when there is an accomplice who is doing just as many bad things as I am.

All those lattes... yeah, they're not drinking themselves and I'm not drinking them alone.
All those eggs and french toasts and bacons... yeah... yum. I wasn't alone. Just sayin'.

In the beginning... we planned our last supper.

We ate snacks and treats all day. We planned a huge meal at a nice restaurant and thought, "This is a nice way to end our last major meal day." We ate appetizers and entrees, shared all the little goodies we had ordered and looked forward to digging into.

We brought home the leftovers and Harley really enjoyed all the extra, flavourful steak. My guts were so full, almost uncomfortably so. Actually, they were overstuffed and a little bit pained. I needed a lot of water.

Then my dog got sick.

Then I got sick. One friend texted and said she was awake all night, sick. Then another friend texted, saying she was awake, sick.

Our last supper was poison.

Our best intentions, our wonderfully-thought-out send-off meal simultaneously made us want to never eat again as well as eat another meal to make up for what we lost.

I decided... that last supper didn't count.

Cheating already, and I hadn't even started yet.
And yep, I wasn't alone.

The Health Quest

You might remember me from such stories as Pipe Dreams or even the ones about Try Club, and those were some fun adventures, some real jamborees. But Seriously, I'm Just Sayin', this Health Quest has been a real circus so far.

A couple of years ago, one of my friends told me I was fat and was probably going to die because of my actions, and that I ate too many cheeseburgers and chicken wings. I disagreed with the burgers and wings statement, but she signed us up for Triathlon training anyway. What a shitshow. We got kicked out of stuff, bled over some stuff, nearly drowned, messed up runner schedules, fought with the trainers, nearly died from the spin bike experiences, and basically just treated Tri Club like a big party. What we did not do was compete at any event or even do all three sports together at any given time. I am not even sure why we did it because we still ate cheeseburgers and chicken wings. And donuts. And pizza.

So, about a month ago, another friend of mine told me I was fat and probably should start a big diet with her. Well, I'm not skinny by any means (by the way, if you are offended by 'f' words, you probably should have stopped reading this blog at the title), and I didn't get my body by eating salad. However, I don't mind trying stuff, but I'm not in a desperate way to change myself. I like my body, and I like eating. But I like challenges, too, especially if they are fun. And this one is going to be fun. Then we roped in another friend of ours, so now all three of us are on this Health Quest together.

If things change for the better, sweet. Most likely, "things" (aka fat and stuff) are going to migrate around my body so I won't weigh less, I'll just look different. It is what it is.

During August, my mother's blood pressure went up and now she is on medication for it, and that is kind of scary. So I decided, if I am going to start a new type of diet, then I'm going to start up on the exercising, too.

I bought a treadmill and a spin bike.
Back at 'er, I guess. Gonna get my "Try" on - again.

I started measuring my heart rate and glucose levels. My glucose rate is awesome, but my heart rate is low, super low, like an elite athlete's heart rate. Now I mean, I know I was in Tri-Club and all, but that was "Try-Club" for me and Jenny... it didn't turn me into an elite athlete... not even a regular athlete. So I have my work cut out for me because that heart rate isn't perfect, given all the variables.

Sometimes, I'm just given'er on the treadmill, feeling like I'm running a marathon, and my heart rate is 68 bpm. I just want to rip those little heart rate monitor arms right off.

Then I look at the calories indicator, and think "How much longer would I have to work before I could eat some chicken wings?"
-.-