"Why Yes! I Would Just Love to Be Your Designated Driver!"

Okay. Let me paint a lil' picture for you...


My diet at the moment is tough, but not yet awful. Six meals a day with lots of protein, carbs early in the day, and ALL CLEAN.


Training is going well. I see some changes happening to my upper body and the four-times-per-week fasting cardio will start to pay off in tightening up my lower body. ALL GOOD.


My mood, for the most part, is pretty normal and the evening carb cravings are not turning me into a maniacal shrew. Yet.


So...all is well. On track. Great. Except...




MY SOCIAL LIFE IS STARTING TO SUCK.

I am at the time in my life when, being unattached and without spawn, I am often invited to social gatherings which will certainly involve:

1. Staying out until 2am or later which really conflicts with my 11pm bedtime. Yes. On weekends.

2. Drinks. Drinks of the kind which have no nutritional value whatsoever. These also have an affect on my willpower at 8am the next day when I should be on the treadmill.

3. Fatty foods, carby foods, greasy foods, sweet foods, and everything besides the bland, whole foods that I consume every three hours like clockwork.

Now, don't get me wrong. I could adapt a little so that I am not at home reading a book or surfing t-nation.com on a Saturday night. With my cat, of course. My Six Pack Bag is pink but I just don't know if carrying my meals around in it goes with a little black dress and "check me out!" heels. When everyone orders that first round of martinis and long-neck bottles, I could whip out my shaker bottle and "pour a cold one" so as not to make my friends roll their eyes at me in disgust. When the managers of my company go to float the river this June, I can pack my cooler full of Muscle Milk and almonds and I am sure no one will think I look like a complete jackass.

Yet...I will be in a bikini and by then, the results of my hard work will be evident. Maybe the beer-guzzling college girls at the river that day will think, "hmmm. Maybe I won't have another tallboy".

Who knows?

What is certain is that I will be the hottest designated driver in town. It will take all the self-discipline that I can muster but I will still do my best to be social and attend events when I can. When I am not working out. Or sleeping. Or grumpy from dieting. Or...

Crap.

Let me get back to you on this, kay? Let me judge the reactions of my friends when I launch the chips and salsa off the table at the local Mexican restaurant or when I ask for a Vodka/water on the rocks, hold the Vodka. Let's see if my co-workers still want me around when we float the river and I am swimming laps beside them in their tubes. Crazy much? YES! I have to be. This is a crazy sport that requires crazy dedication and crazy sacrifice and I want it crazy bad!

Maybe, I just need crazy friends. How 'bout it, Jules? Wanna go hit the town tonight in the highest heels we have (to work those calves, naturally) and ask bartenders if the cranberry mixer is sugar-free without maltodextrin and additives?

                    



Do These Weights Make My Muscles Look Big? PART I

Houston, we have a problem.

On March 9, 1959, a woman was "born" who epitomized all the attributes young ladies were supposed to have. She was well-endowed (to say the least) and had the demure sideways gaze of the popular 1950's-era fashion model. She had access to the best cars (what girl doesn't love her Corvette and Hummer?) and had serious real estate including homes in Malibu and New York. She maintained a stable relationship with the same man over the course of 40 years but has since "found herself" and made the decision to part ways with him and remain friends. At 5'9'', she was much taller than average with measurements coming in at 36 inches (chest), 18 inches (waist) and 33 inches (hips) at a mind-blowing 110 lbs. She was what every little girl aspired to be. Mysteriously wealthy. Popular. Skinny. Plastic?

Um, not so much. (Gotta love those shoes, though!)


At 5'8'', if I weighed 110 lbs., you would be force-feeding me True Mass and loaves of French bread so that you didn't have to stare at my clavicals poking out of my fleece hoodie. Kudos to the Synthetic Siren herself but seriously, honey. Only you can pull off that look.

As women, we learn through Barbie and that annoying Skipper chick we played with as little girls that the only things that need be big on us are our smiles and our hearts. In all reality, the tissue visible OVER the heart also known as BOOBS. Yep. I said it. Everything else can be spare and thin.

No thanks.

The next time you want to shoot for the skinny look, ask your hubby or boyfriend if he likes cuddling up to the body of a 12 year-old boy. If he says yes, more power to you. You and he can have a happy existence listening to Cher and shopping at Pottery Barn together. FABULOUS!

As for me...


My doctor says that I need to get more IRON.


Like, pumping iron. Not in pill form, sorry.


I am trying to get certain body parts...oh no! Here it comes...don't read further, Barbie!

BIGGER.

I want BIGGER lats. I want BIGGER shoulders. I want BIGGER portions of sweet potatoes and oatmeal 'cause this 1/2 cup crap every three hours ain't cutting it.

The way I see it at the moment, BIGGER = BETTER.

Of course, not everything grows bigger at the same rate. Maybe things are growing that need to stay the same size or might need to get smaller. (Hey, Brandi's Ass. This means YOU.)
This is messing with the deep-seated sense of delicate femininity I was taught to have about my body. The Figure Competitor is at conflict with the Barbie inside me.

The fortunate thing is, that Figure Competitor in me is a feisty, HUNGRY harpy that can easily snap 110 lbs. of plastic.

So...

I have been dieting like a champ for the last two weeks and the numbers are looking great. Weight down? Check! Body fat slowly decreasing? Check! Black slacks fitter looser this morning before work?

NEGATIVE.



Damn.

You mean to tell me that I avoided eating ten Cadbury Eggs for this anticlimax?

Really?

Again, this is Barbie talking. In her head, eating bland, flavorless foods should mean that your clothes are falling off you by now. The diet of chicken breast sprinkled with chicken breast and dipped in chicken breast leads to smaller sizes in the dressing room. Those 10 asparagus spears that I look forward to every night at 8pm (<---this is a joke, by the way) will have me shopping at places like Hollister (where size SMALL means you must be four years old).

Shut up, Barbie.

I will persist on because I feel the change and I know it is coming. I will grow where I want to grow if I train correctly. I will lose where I want to lose if I eat my chicken breast like a good girl.

I will put away these silly, ingrained notions because I will drown out MY Barbie's voice when I pick up another weight.

Time to go get some iron.



'Team Jolie' or 'Team Baby Momma'? I will take 'Team Kick Ass', thank you very much.

Funny thing has happened over the years recently. Maybe the economic downturn in 2008 caused us to fret over something meaningless so as to avoid stressing about real fear and uneasiness. Could be...


In any case, I have noticed the media pushing people to choose sides. Not the age-old choice of Republican v. Democrat or wheat bread v. white. Nope. It is the question of who Brad Pitt should be sleeping with: his wife, Jennifer Aniston, or maybe Angelina Jolie?

Hmmm.


Tough.


I REALLY care about this question. I mean, this could change a lot of lives and it could quite possibly mean...um, NOTHING.


Another notably important choice. Here goes...


What teenage girl on MTV's 'Teen Mom' do you like best? Are you 'Team Macy' or 'Team Amber'?


Okay.


Let me think...


'Team Condom'? Yep. Can you print that t-shirt up, MTV? Thanks so much! OMG and TTYL!


Get ready for my rant...


I am sick and tired of people having 'teams' of support for doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Nada. (Oops. Except maybe getting pregnant at sixteen. My bad!) I brushed my teeth this morning, can my team back me up here? Where is 'Team Dental Hygiene' when a girl needs 'em? Seriously. When you don your 'Team Jennifer' baby tee, are you seriously taking her side? Are you going to hold her hand when she is crying over Brad and help her polish off that 5th pint of Ben & Jerry's Berried Treasure? No. You are not. Because YOU DO NOT EVEN KNOW HER. But yet, we still take the sides of people we do not know and who's problems are really not our own. I prefer a different approach...


I get sweeter here...


How about supporting someone you know (or have an association with) for doing something positive? Going back to college, completing a 5K, accomplishing a lifelong goal? That is how 'Team Kick Ass' was created. The funny part is, Team Kick Ass does not even know it exists. Until now...

This team is assembled of people who push others to be better and it is darn time that they get credit for it. They make me want to accomplish my goal and they believe in my ability to succeed. Some know me well, some wish we knew eachother better, but I feel that all are on my team and I am on theirs.
Team Kick Ass DFW: Ashley, Christie, my hero B (Birgit), Sean, Jessica, El Problemo, and Jason.
Team Kick Ass H-Town: Big Rob (of course!), Keri, Laura, and Eric. I am so amazed by the work y'all are doing there. KEEP KICKIN' ASS! :)
Team Kick Ass Aggieland: My WONDERFUL Boot Camp girls from Fitness Forever. I know that I will have the LOUDEST cheering section ever. I love each and every one of my 200 "little sisters"!
Team Kick Ass ATX: William (my beloved pizza eater), Julie ("this is lightweight, baby!"), and my friends/family at Planet Fitness. My suit isn't purple but my next one will be! ;)


Okay. Mushiness over. I will commence...


Let me guarantee everyone here that I will push you and support you in all that you do and THANK YOU for supporting me in my venture. It will be tough (as I type, I am STARVING!) but I will make Team Kick Ass proud. I cannot quit because I would not be letting only myself down now...I would be letting those supporting me down and MY TRIUMPH WILL BE SHARED ;)


P.S. I am not making t-shirts or anything. Unless there is a 'Team Ben&Jerry'...



Teacup Chihuahuas and Ugg Boots.

Women are all about accessories. The little black dress has become a staple in a modern gal's wardrobe simply because you can accessorize the hell outta it and have twenty different outfits at once. I have some friends that can merchandise a white t-shirt into a haute couture ensemble with a simple necklace and a wide belt (I think I still have one of your necklaces, Miss Spencer). Of course, some modern gals have fallen prey to the trends when it comes to purchasing those must-have accessories. Here is where I step on some toes...

First of all, no. Not at all. Never. Animals ARE NOT accessories. This means YOU, Paris Hilton. You seem to be a repeat offender. There is nothing chic about a yappy, 8oz. teacup Yorkie-Poo making icky-poo inside the fine leather of your Louis Vuitton. I love animals, I really do. I love them enough to know that they are not happy wearing pink jackets, or rhinestone tiaras, or being carted around to the local nail salon for your fill while they sit in your Coach satchel. They like balls. They like running around. They like humping my dad's leg at Christmas like my sister's dearly departed Tyler did. Get it straight.

Second of all, the aptly named Ugg Boot. Here is my jealousy showing...just a teensy bit. This is a darn comfy piece of footwear and anyone who denies that has never had their little footsie in one. They are great in winter, with leggings and matching sweater. This is where the trend line is drawn. Since when did young ladies start thinking, in the middle of summer while donning tank tops and shorts, that "Gee gosh! My feet are FREEZING!!!" Really? These are boots. Furry boots. Not meant for shorts or 4-inch skirts. You look like an ass and again, this means YOU, Paris. Would I ever wear them with shorts? No. For two simple reasons:
1. I tend to wear flip-flops or sandals with my shorts so as not to have people question my intellect.
2. I have 15-inch calves. Enough said.

Now...on to the accessory that the universal Figure Competitor yearns for. She needs it to complete her look and bring it all together. Without it, she is just another fit female with an awesome tan. I am talking about...

SHOULDERS! They need to be full, rounded and wide. They are the beautiful basis for the Figure physique and they are the necessary accessory that is going to set you apart from the other girls when you are on stage. They are going to set ME apart from the other competitors on stage. Now...where can I find some?

So, like a character right out of a J.R.R. Tolkien novel, I am on a quest. I am going to search high and low (volume, of course!), near and far to find and develop my perfect accessory. It cannot be bought and it will not be easy but I will have my two glorious turtle-shells resting on my arms come September. I have some killer workouts (going for those "Mountain Dog Shoulders", Colton) and some killer determination. Will it be the TRX band or dumbbells that get me my delightful delts? I do not know this yet but I am going to find them. At least, and I am thankful, this accessory will not crap in my gym bag. ;)

     "Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try."

Introduction to Me and Farewell to Pastries...

Howdy!


Let me start my first blog with a little about me. Please refrain from yawning...

I am a Fightin' Texas Aggie, Class of 2003 and please do not do the math on my age because I graduated at 14. ;) I am a Certified Personal Trainer and love all things physical and challenging. Yep. This coming from a girl who ran a 20 minute mile in high school but swimming has always been my forté and it provides a much better physique anyways. (So there! Put that in with your burned-out joints, marathon runners.)

I have wanted to do a competition for the last five years but time, and MONEY, have played a factor. Ever wonder why the successful Figure and Fitness ladies seem to be in their early or mid-thirties? Because that is when they FINALLY quit their jobs making $15 an hour as a personal trainer at the gym and got a career that paid them well. (Am I the only one?) It is NOT because the female body cooperates any better in your thirties than in your twenties. In fact, that body I hated in my twenties would be a blessing now. It also might be because you develop drive and discipline that comes with maturity or maybe that is just me.

Anyways, I am lucky starting this journey because I have some incredible people supporting me. My dear boyfriend, William, is teaching me all about willpower because this is someone who can down two pizzas in less than 24 hours and still have visible abs. (Remind me to smother him in his sleep, kay?)

I have my training buddy, Julie, who is teaching me about DETERMINATION and DEDICATION because if she can give up beer for The Shredder, I can give up bread for eternity.

So, in summation, I am thrilled about this. I have a great team of support beside me and I have my eyes on the prize. Now, all I have to do is hang my suit (arriving in 8 weeks) next to the pantry and a stuffed pig next to my car keys (for when the cravings are bad and I tell myself that one Krispy Kreme won't throw me off track).

"Boldness be my friend."
~ William Shakespeare