Recovering From A Binge In 4 Easy Steps

Picking yourself up after a dive off the deep end slight stumble in your quest for healthy living takes a few purposeful decisions. I've found that the best way to regroup and get right back on plan is to follow these simple steps.

1. STOP EATING CRAP. 

Seems simple enough, right? It's totally not. Because you will still want to eat allllllllll the crap. Why? It's delicious. Crappy food tastes wonderful because fat and sugar are stupid good, and when they are combined it's like happy chemicals explode in your brain. Literally. That literally happens. And since they are in your system (because maybe after your binge party if you were to spontaneously evaporate it would be in the form of Iced Cappuccino) your body will crave that mess until you fully detox. So get ready to suck it up and live out a Basketball Diaries-type withdrawl (pretend you're Leonardo DiCaprio)(but without, you know, the prostitution) and just.stop.eating.crap.

Seriously. STOP.

2. Meal Plan like a mother. A really organized, anal retentive mother. Who likes to eat.

Just because you fell into a vat of chocolate covered Doritos doesn't mean that getting back on track needs to be full of Punishment Food*. (*Can all my Fat Mom ladies out there please acknowledge the existence of Punishment Food? This is the super strict diet you follow after you eat too much to make you feel better about your choices while still allowing you to feel defeated and miserable because it is all bland and tasteless. An example of this is broiled, unseasoned, boneless, skinless chicken breast served with plain, broiled asparagus. There are only two benefits to this meal: 1. You can feel like a martyr eating it because you are suffering for a greater cause (this is a popular benefit if you happen to be a bit Drama Queen-esque)(*looks around innocently at who this might be because it's certainly not yours truly*) and 2. Asparagus pee.

Coming off a binge is the perfect time to fall in love with real, healthy, good food again. I plan out my meals for the week and prep them. I choose meals that I really like; ones that I will look forward to eating. That way I'm not tempted to stop and grab something that may be part of my regular eating plan as a splurge every once and a while (not pointing any fingers, but McDonalds Southwest grilled chicken salad, that one's for you). Coming off a binge, the extra sodium, artificial ingredients, and elevated sugars in those splurge meals are not something you need to have messing with your detox.

Here are some of my meals from last week. Don't get too jealous of my food photography skills, plating ability, or adorable orange toenails that sneaked into the first picture 1970's Corelle dishes.

Breakfast everyday. 2 eggs, 2 egg whites. Trader Joe's sprouted bread (you hush your mouth), 1 Tbs Meijer natural peanut butter (not pictured: tea with sugar free creamer)
365 calories, 12 carbs, 20 fat*, 29 protein
*the fat thing = I eat most of my fat during the day. I also eat a high fat diet. Breakfast usually has about a third to a half of my fat for the day, which is both tasty and hugely satiating.

Lunch option #1 = 2 cups of broccoli coleslaw with 5 oz grilled chicken. (Not pictured - Pure Protein shake)
308 calories, 11 carbs, 6 fat, 55 protein
I season the snot out of that chicken with dried herbs and spices and grill it; the broccoli slaw I just saute with water in a non-stick pan to soften it. (You could totally add oil or salad dressing to dress it up, just adjust the macros.) (Fun Fact for Free = My counter top is Corian and may have been chosen (a.k.a. was chosen solely) because the color is called "Granola". Clearly, there was no other appropriate choice for the kitchen.) (And yes, I chose our wall color for it's name: "Sweet Cream".)(This is why I did not go into interior decorating.)

Lunch option #2 = Parmesan meatballs and 1 cup broccoli.
255 cals, 9 carbs, 13 fat, 23 protein.
I can not say enough about this recipe. AMAZING. I could eat this every day. My macros are slightly different from hers because, well, I entered all the info using my own ingredient brands, and then weighed each meatball, so, yeah, #science.

Dinner = Post Deadlift Feast. 5 oz grilled chicken, 1 serving veggie kabob, 1/2 cup brown rice.
381 cals, 29 carbs, 13 fat, 49 protein
Truth? Normally I'd eat double the amount of rice post workout. Dem carbs. But GNC has a sale on Quest bars this month and this is probably what my dinner looked like if I'd snarfed an entire Cinnamon Roll Quest bar on the ride home from the gym. Quest bars - you complete me.

I loved all of this food. It filled me up, nourished my body, and helped me get back on track. I didn't have to think about what I felt like eating, which, really, is only an opening to dwell on foods I shouldn't have right now, and an entirely unhelpful event for my goals. I just ate what I already had. Done.

3a. Drink all the water. Every drop of it. (Unless you live in Toledo and are under the water advisory.)(Then travel with everyone else in your city up to Michigan and buy our bottled water.)(Especially Absopure water.)(Because they pay our bills, yo it's the best water around.)

Water is seriously the best friend a girl can have, post-binge. It rehydrates after all the salty and processed foods have stripped your body. It flushes you out (pardon the pun). DRINK ALL THE WATER. Added benefit? If you drink enough water you will be too busy going to the bathroom to think about sneaking chocolate chip cookies. (Mostly.)

3b. Sweat it out.

Deadlift bruises in various stages. Lifting
ain't always pretty when you're clumsy.
Also - jammie pants sighting #1

I'm going to be honest here, working out is not usually something I have a problem with. Even when I'm shoving treats in my mouth like Twinkies just got discontinued again I'm still at the gym almost every day. I truly enjoy working out. But if this is you who slacks off in this department, get up and move your tush. You will feel so much better after you sweat a little. (Similarly to post-binge eating, this is not the time for Punishment Exercise. You know these workouts. This is not the time to #killit #beastmode #gohardorgohome if you don't feel like it. This is a time to simply show up. Do something you like to do. I did a deload for the first two days post-binge. Per Kemper's instructions I kept my weights high but my overall volume low. I love HIIT training on the rowing machine. So I did that instead of the steady-state cardio my training plan called for. Why? I enjoy it. Good food and exercise are a gift to my body; the post-binge workouts I choose are like Christmas morning.

4. Order crap from the internet and schedule the delivery for your first few days recovery.

Okay, full disclosure: this was totally a happy coincidence. My internet buys just happened to come last week and thank you, Jesus, because it was such a happy moment to get not one, but two packages in the mail.

The first was a birthday present from Lauren (who actually gave me a TYR gift card a whole month before my June birthday because she was worried that with the birth of her first child my birthday would get lost in the shuffle)(she is available for How To Be An Awesome Best Friend lessons). I finally got around to ordering a new suit and swim cap.

The people at Lifetime Fitness will forever be grateful that I finally have a new bathing suit. I also got a sweet Lycra swim cap because I passionately *hate* (yeah, I went there) regular swim caps.
"Hey, Kel, look at you gettin' all fancy staging that shot on your wood floors."
*puff of hot breath on my fingernails, rubs them on shirt*

Also, powerlifter/Youtuber Chelsea Karabin, my internet best friend* (*probably she has no idea who I am) sent me the t-shirt I ordered and I may have flipped balls when it came I was so excited.

Picture me fangirling to Brian, "BRIAN. CHELSEA KARABIN WROTE MY NAME." Also, jammie pants sighting to your left.

One: this is as real life as it gets. Yep, that's my hair. Yep, that's my breakfast pan still chilling out all filthy on the stove. Over my shoulder? Garbage. #Betterhomesandgardens Two: this is the most comfortable shirt I've ever owned. Three: NSV; it's a unisex small. Whaaa?

So that's my official guide to Recovering From A Binge in 4 Easy Steps. To end this, here is a selfie with my sister who is awesome. Just because.

This is totally not accurate. I'm waaaaaaaay taller than her. Also, waaaaaaaaaay taller is the new way we describe about a quarter of an inch.

Happy Monday!

And a side of pizza

Some happenings...

LAUREN had her baby!!! Deborah Rose joined our world June 8, 2014. She was 9 pounds, 1 ounce and has a ton of hair. Lauren is recovering nicely after a horrific birth experience that she will wear like a badge of honor in about five years as soon as the trauma feelings wear off. My first act as Aunt Kelly was to take Deborah's First Selfie. She can mark that milestone in her baby book.

Other milestones with Aunt Kelly will include:
First Barbell Squat
First Iced Coffee
First Needtobreathe Concert

EZRA is striving for the longest stomach bug in the history of our family. He has spent every other night for over a week now throwing up and poo-ing everywhere. This is disgusting and has made me gag on occasion. Thankfully one of the characteristics of motherhood is that once Nasty is out of sight it is out of mind and I can clean up filth one minute and make myself a delicious breakfast in the next. So, yay survival skills. The weirdest thing is that he is only really sick at night. I discovered a lovely little option on our washing machine called "the sanitize cycle." It is keeping me sane.

I subbed veggies for that mushroom
cap. Because I hate mushrooms,
that's why.

MY IN-LAWS returned from Africa!! They have been living there since February 2013, and I've missed them terribly. We picked them up from the airport yesterday afternoon, visited for a few hours, and then ate dinner at Applebee's. (Where I had one of the best steaks of my life.)(Right?)(At APPLEBEE'S?)(I thought the same thing.)

LIFETIME is closed this week for maintenance. Well, just the fitness floor is closed, but since that eliminates all the weights, cardio equipment, and stretching area that pretty much renders Lifetime useless to me. I worked out at my old gym last night and ran into Trainer Tom. He was all, "YOU LOOK GREAT!" and then asked about my body fat percentage. He guessed it accurately (which I'm pretty sure is his trainer parlor trick) and said he could see a huge difference in my body. I was all, "I'm lifting...heavy," and felt like a total bad-A. Good times.

No Butterfinger candy bars were
harmed in the making of this shake.

THE BEST PROTEIN SHAKE I've ever had was made in my blender for lunch. It was seriously amazing. It's not a clean recipe, and is a pretty hefty meal replacement (it was about 440 calories and 42 grams of protein and was HUGE) but it was such an awesome summer "treat". The only thing that could have made it better was a side of pizza a fun twisty straw.

Butterfinger Protein Shake

1 cup milk (any kind will do, but I used cows milk because I needed the calories)

1 cup water

1 scoop chocolate protein powder

1 cup ice

1 TBSP peanut butter

1 TBSP sugar free, fat free butterscotch pudding mix

Blend and inhale. Or savor. Whatever.

These shoes now belong to me. I spent two days thinking about them after trying them on. It took three Kohls adventures to find them in my size. Totally worth the effort. I'm going to wear them with my elephant t-shirt because of course I have an elephant t-shirt. (Because if I was an animal I'd be a Kelephant.)(Haha.)(Not a fat joke.)(Just a hilarious play on words.)

I am going to enjoy another sunny day here in the Mitten. It is supposed to get really hot and I can't wait to let the kiddos run through the sprinkler while I weed the flower beds, wash the car, and wear a tank top. I LOVE SUMMER!

Party on, Wayne. Party on, Garth.

Facebook Status: Watching Beauty and the Beast at 4:00 a.m. with a *literally* hot 104 degree four year old. Because moms party hard.

This is the third night in a row I've greeted some insane hour by doing ridiculous things (i.e. anything other than sleep at this wretched time of day). Monday morning found me googling "macronutrient calculator" at 3:30 a.m. while waiting for Esther's pukey sheets to tumble in the wash. I am now knowledgeable enough to have an entire eating plan calibrated to my weight, preferred diet, and exercise level. I rocked that plan all day Monday and Tuesday like I was metamorphic. (Ohmylanta, rocked it like a metamorphic?! Oh, geology jokes, I dig you.)

Thankfully, before I got too prideful about my superior eating plan, Ezra has been suffering a seriously high fever for a couple hours now, and I am handling the situation of yet another sleepless night with a whole wheat English muffin and peanut butter consumed about an hour ago. (Because have you ever had a tummy so hungry it hurt? I haven't eaten wheat in who knows how long and decided it was the perfect choice for my "you aren't normally awake at this time and your body is trying to manipulate you into feeding it and you will go ahead and do it because you are an American and you do not negotiate with terrorists instead you give them exactly what they want".)(That is probably seasons four through eight of 24 talking because once President Palmer left office crap went downhill fast.)

Ezra is now tucked snugly on the couch with a Tigger water bottled filled with soy milk (and has moved on to the Winnie the Pooh Heffalump movie) and I have tackled two loads of laundry and a full half an hour of Pinterest. Now that I have accomplished the important items on my to-do list I am free to blog about last night's workout.

I only have one session left with Trainer Mike. Once I finish the whole month I plan to have an assessment post all about Trainer Mike. (It will totally be a Mike vs Kemper smackdown event). Until then know that my time with Mike has been spent mostly on abs and back. This is because I do arms on Monday and legs on Wednesday and I meet with Mike on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so he tries to work other parts of my body. I'm sure he totally loves basing all his training around my workout schedule and this doesn't make me a PITA to him at all.

Last night was a whole new game for us. I missed Monday's workout (because LAUREN HAD HER BABY!!!)(pics soon!) so Mike was free to do whatever the heck he wanted. And? It was hella fun.

I ran a warm up mile on the treadmill and then met Mike. He started me on a quick ab circuit that included 30 seconds of mountain climbers (on towels), 1:30 planks, and 15 medicine ball slams (which are probably one of my most favorite things to do in the history of life). We did that circuit three times.

Then he gave me only one more circuit to do. We were going to do the whole thing three times, resting as I needed.

This is not me. But this is totally what it looked
like last night. Except there was no dog. And I was
 waaaaay sweatier. And my muscles are
slightly less defined.

We started with push ups with rows. Mike has me use the PowerBlock dumbbells for these because they help my wrists. I got in plank position (wide leg) did a push up (which felt more like a tricep push up with the positioning) then alternated a row on each side. (The PowerBlock was set at 15 pounds for each side.) I did that 10 times. We went straight into plie squats with a 25# kettlebell. I could really feel the difference all that heavy squatting has made. Those plie squats weren't a thang.

Next were regular kettlebell swings (@20#), followed by ... box jumps. This was a HUGE milestone, because I've never done box jumps in public before. (Unless you count jumping the benches at the park.) I was so nervous! I did that whole Biggest Loser pre-jump sike-out move twice before I just took a deep breath and just went for it. After my first set Mike raised the height by a few inches. It got so much easier (emotionally) the second and third round.

This *is* what I look like while working the ropes.
Like my hair is all shiny and clean and flows
behind me as you can see above. It definitely
doesn't cling to my head in a mom ponytail while
 sweat drips off the ends and onto my neck
and into my eyes. Because that would be
decidedly not hot.

We followed box jumps with the ropes. Trainer Mike does this totally cute move where he tells me to "GO!" and then pretends to look at the clock so I can do 30 seconds but really he gets distracted by the cute girl doing back extensions on the machine in front of him and makes me do 45 seconds because "you looked like you could keep going." Haha, he's such a joker.

After the ropes was a cool down move of a minute of step ups before we repeated the whole circuit twice more. I really had a blast with this workout. It was a nice break from heavy weights but also just kept going, so I never got bored. I was challenged physically by the push ups and mentally by the box jumps. After all the circuits I ran a cool down mile. Then I came home and ate carbs, so yeah, a day that finishes with a great workout and allthechickenandRICE is a good day.

Now I'm going to go tend to my sweet baby boy (who is now on his third movie of the day - Toy Story at 6:30 a.m. for those of you keeping track)(and who could really care less about my "tending" unless it's to bring him more drinks and the occasional back rub). The girlies will be getting up in another half an hour and the day "officially" begins again.

*sigh*

Is it wrong that I'm already dreaming about a nice arm workout and HIIT treadmill run tonight? Don't answer that.

Not a drop of pig's blood anywhere.

true story bro.

Wednesday I verbally spewed posted about my decision to put on my big girl panties and face my fear of lifting weights at the gym that evening. I was nervous all day long, and even tried several times to talk myself out of it. Thankfully I suck at negotiations, so when Brian got home from work I headed to Lifetime and prepared to finally lift heavy weights with the big boys during peak hours.

The first thing I did when I got upstairs at Lifetime was find a treadmill and warm up. I prefer the treadmills over by the weights because they are much closer to the TV's  I can spy inconspicuously on other people working out  they are newer and my running is smoother. I usually run about a half a mile. I chose a treadmill in plain sight of the squat rack so I could torture myself for a full half mile in preparation for squatting.

When it came time to get off the treadmill I totally couldn't do it. I was all, "Maybe I'll run another minute," except multiply that thought times five. I ended up running a full mile before I realized I was going to burn my legs out if I kept that mess up. I needed to just.freaking.do it.

Both squat racks were in use. I picked the one closest to me (a.k.a. my favorite rack and the only one I've ever used) and the dude on it said he had two more sets left. I thought about deadlifting first, but there were already three guys lifting there, and someone was working the ropes, so space was already really tight. Within a minute the other squat rack opened up, so I bee-lined it over and claimed it like an alpha male. (i.e. I threw my crap down and kicked off my shoes like I was IN MY OWN HOUSE.)(Because WHO'S HOUSE IS THIS?!?! MY HOUSE, BEACH-ES)(I may have been listening to Eminem rap Won't Back Down on my iPod at that time.)

(Also, "beach-es" is for Lauren.)(You're welcome)

I'm kind of glad I got the rack I was on because there was no mirror, so I really couldn't obsess over who might be watching me. I took a deep breath and actually self-talked. I was all, "You got this, Kel." It was totally like a Nike commercial in my mind only. I squatted the bar to warm up, then did a set at 65#. I did two sets at 85#, and a final set at 95#. It was interesting to note how much easier it is to squat at night as compared to 4:00 a.m. I was really warmed up and felt so much stronger. I felt like I could have gone another 20# but my heart rate was so high from nerves I called that set a victory and moved on to deadlifting.

Two guys were already set up in the area I needed to be in, so I waited until I caught their eyes and they gym pantomimed (you know, the non-verbal communication that happens when everyone is plugged in to some kind of device) that of course I was welcomed to set up as well.

I had a moment of panic when I realized the metal thingies (or, as Kemper calls them, "the weight clips") I needed to use were all taken, and the only ones left were the black ones. Yes, the same black ones Kemper has at his house that I couldn't figure out by myself and still didn't really understand. Still, I had to use something because it's what you do. I walked over all calm and collected and picked up the black ones and prayed Lord Jesus, please gift me with spontaneous mechanical skillz and He totally did because I figured that mess out in roughly two seconds. #miracle

Now that I looked like I knew what I was doing with the black clips I was free to deadlift. This was a bit trickier because I was facing a wall of mirrors and also surrounded by people, so I didn't need to obsessively imagine who was looking at me, I could see it with my own eyes.

The consensus? Nobody really cares what I'm doing. That realization could have been vaguely disappointing if I was someone with narcissistic tendencies. (Haha, that's a blogger joke.) I did my normal deadlift set, and felt the same way I did about squatting; I think at night I'll be able to lift a bit heavier.

I finished with the rest of my leg day routine. I've changed it up a bit since my last post about leg day, mainly because since then I've trained with Kemper and he showed me some new things to add. I did reverse lunges with kettlebells, some Romanian deadlifts with a 45# plate, plie squat jumps, bridges, leg extension, and hamstring curls.

I was so freaking jubilant at this point that I decided to extend my cool down run with intervals. I did about 2.5 miles of a combination of sprints, high incline walks, and recovery jogs. I was so happy and proud of myself I forgot Brian needed me home because he had an 8:00 appointment and I pulled in the driveway at 8:30. Total wife fail. (But don't worry, Brian is as awesome as he seems and reacted by saying, "I'm glad you're not dead. I have to go," and the minute he returned from his appointment said, "So how did lifting go?" because he's the Best Husband Ever.)

So, yeah, being a nighttime meathead was fantastic.

In other Really Important Life-altering News: I have some weight loss updates.

First, here are the picture results of the 90 day weight loss challenge. I feel like they would be way more impressive if I was wearing a sports bra and some shorts but Brian would kill me there are teen boys from my church that read my blog occasionally and I got a rep to maintain, y'all. This first picture is me at 168.9 and 37% body fat.

These are my Second Day Jeans. Those are the jeans that are miserable to wear the first day but finally fit you the second day. In this picture, even the Second Day is looking pretty uncomfortable. Also, the arms of that shirt were cutting off my freaking circulation.

This second picture was taken a few weeks ago. 149.9 and 24.4% body fat.

Same clothes straight out of the dryer. Hot. Literally.
My Second Day Jeans are now too big to even be First Day Jeans and have been put in my Big Girl Pile under the bed.

I haven't posted any weigh ins for a while for a few reasons. One was that it was harder than I thought to sneak onto the fancy scale at Lifetime. I wanted to use the same scale for consistency purposes but also because it gives me body fat percentage. I was able to weigh myself twice during my 4:00 mornings, but I have been suffering a tenacious plateau for a few weeks. I've been hanging out at around 150# and between 24-25% body fat since the challenge ended. I had/have no idea why but it is what it is.

But last Thursday I weighed in with the new trainer* (because remember I won a month of free personal training at Lifetime?!) and I weighed in at 150.3 and 24.8% body fat. We decided that every Thursday I could weigh in with him, so last night I got on that scale and weighed in at 147.9 with a body fat of 23.6%. ONE FORTY SEVEN POINT NINE Y'ALL. That, my friends, is my LOWEST ADULT WEIGHT EVER. (*Picture confetti falling from the ceiling because that totally happened in my mind*) That's also my lowest body fat percentage, so I'm a happy girl.

(*I'll write about the new trainer once we've had a few more sessions.)(You know, to be fair and all.)(Spoiler: he's not a meathead.)

I'll leave you with this crappy iPhone picture awesome shot of my Saturday night 13 Years of Wedded Bliss Anniversary Date cheat meal. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :)

What you can't see - my turkey sandwich is on cranberry walnut bread. Also on my sandwich? Apples. And yes, that *is* diet coke. #partyhard

And I was like, "Baby, Baby, Baby, ohhh" - The Biebs

Because the world needs more selfies of me and Lauren.

My bestie is having a baby. She has an adorably round belly and is due in June and I'm so happy for her I could squeal. (I did, in fact, squeal when she told me which is how everyone in my house knew she was pregnant before I got off the phone with her.)

I asked if I could throw her a shower back in January sometime without thinking that I'm not really gifted in the art of party throwing. No worries, it turns out that a ton of people love Lauren and wanted to help, so before I knew it I was co-hosting with Lauren's sister-in-law who also has a job as an event planner. I got several phone calls from other friends/Lauren's family who wanted to do all the decorating, make the cake, and supply the party favors. Oh, and Katie (Lauren's sister-in-law) had it at her house. So, really, the shower I threw Lauren went off without a hitch.

I can't help but think this was all really for the better, because before I had any help I spent hours scouring Pinterest to find the best baby shower ideas available. I pinned quite a few gems.

Games

Um, *yeah* that's Sperm Cornhole.

Pin the Sperm to the Uterus. Obviously.
Also, Eve is getting close to the age where we need to have The Talk, so this game could also be used as an educational tool - like a visual aid - that she could discuss in therapy someday.

Gifts

I can totally picture Lauren feeding her baby in Somerset Mall using these.

Every girl needs a perfect pregnancy t-shirt

In the end I was only really in charge of some supplies, half the food, games, and prizes. Since Lauren's car broke down on the way to the shower (awwwwwesome) we only played one game in the interest of time. Sadly, it was not Sperm Cornhole. (That is a phrase I never thought I would utter.)(Like, ever.)(And now that's twice in one blog post.)(I'm weirdly proud that happened.)

The shower was a success. I was really glad to see some old friends (old in that I've known them forever, *not* that we are aged.) and we took a group shot of the girls fifteen a few years after our glory days. (Glory days = having an entire conversation without stopping to cut up food for a toddler or changing a diaper.)

Lauren, Katie, Yours Truly, Rosie, Mary, and Jackie.
Weird that we are all barely 25, right?

One of my favorite moments of the baby shower was standing on the porch in heels going over deadlift form with Rosie. We even borrowed Katie's broom to get Rosie's back in the proper alignment while I waxed poetic about my undying affection for Elliott Hulse. Other highlights included:

- having Lauren sit in the squishiest chair possible for present opening, mainly so that when she had to get out of the chair it counted as both her cardio and strength training for the day.

(*story for free* Whenever I'm pregnant Brian thinks it's hilarious to play a game he calls "Turtle". "Turtle" is played by pushing me onto my back and laughing hysterically while I struggle to right myself.)(Marriage is so.fun.y'all.)

- manipulating Lauren's husband into going to get my car from down the street because I didn't want to walk half a block in my heels after the shower was over. This was accomplished by asking, "David? Do you want to do something really chivalrous for me?"

- getting to snuggle Mary's new baby while feeling my ovaries explode and uttering sweetly to him, "You are so adorable and I am done having babies." I'm pretty sure it was really self-talk used to convince myself that I am done having babies.


I'm so happy for Lauren. I can't wait to meet her sweet Deborah Rose!

The Aftermath - DAY ONE

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Kelly from Sublurban Mama.

Kelly from Sublurban Mama, who?

Kelly from Sublurban Mama who is GETTING! TRAINED! BY! KEMPER! ONCE! A! MONTH!


That's right, everyone can breathe a bit easier knowing I am not going to fall into a vat of melted chocolate and eat my way out of last week's depression over Kemper's departure. I know I sure can. I can not describe how much lighter life got when he succumbed to peer pressure commented on the blog yesterday and agreed to continue to train me. I was able to arrive at the gym last night with a happy heart, ready to bring it to Core Blast before my final Kemper weigh-in.

It's a good thing I was prepared, because Kevin decided not to teach Core Blast and instead settled on a class called Let's Do Squats Until We Puke, and Then We'll Do Some Lunges; And Just When You Think You Are Going To Physically Keel Over, We'll Do Jump Squats and Get Out the Medicine Balls and BOSU For Extra Fun. (I think the class schedule still said "Core Blast" because that other title wouldn't fit in the slot.) It's been a long time since I took a break during an athletic drill and stared at the instructor incredulously. But Kevin was on the receiving end of at least one such look.

After class I went to find Sarah. She was on the lat pull down. We agreed to meet up after my weigh-in. When I saw Kemper at the scale I actually skipped over because I was so freaking relieved. I told him I was glad Plan A to get him to train me was so effective (Plan A = beg), because I did not have a whole lot of faith in Plan B. (Plan B = finding out if Kemper had a brother (he totally does) and offering to marry him because I've seen what Kemper has done for his sister and girlfriend (both figure competitors) and if I were family he would be obligated to train me.)(Tricky parts of that plan include: my husband and kids (although polygamy is totally in the Bible, and I have enough Sister Wives to argue my way around that, and convincing a twenty-something single guy that he should totally settle down with a married mother of four in the interest of personal health. Specifically, her personal health.)

My weigh-in was a'ight. If I needed convincing that stress plays a negative role in weight loss I have a week of proof under my belt. Not only did I face the fear of being on my own this week, there were two other big things going on. One was throwing Lauren a baby shower on Saturday. (Honestly, not terribly crazy. It was just a lot more to do than usual.) The other major stress factor is our Other House.

(*minor tangent* Remember our old house? The house that sat behind the Meth House? Five years ago when the housing market tanked, we needed to sell it because we were moving. We got an offer on it right away, but because everyone and their brother were taking advantage of the FHA loans, the government had to come out and assess our home value in order to approve the loan. They assessed our house $40K below asking price because there were 5 foreclosures on our block we were competing against. (All priced $80-90K below our house.)(And? We still got an offer. BAM) We decided not to sell at such a loss and rent it instead.

We got amazing renters (or so we thought). They are totally pleasant people who always paid rent on time and didn't complain about much. We got a phone call that they were moving out this week because of financial reasons. This was a bit scary because we still owe money on that house and pay that mortgage out of the rent money we receive. We need income from that property. They moved out and I walked through the house on Sunday.

HO. LEE. COW, Y'all. The house is trashed.

It's so trashed we have a contractor coming to give us quotes tonight. (It's mostly a ton of cosmetic stuff - like doors and appliances that need to be replaced. And a lot of patching in the walls. And repainting the entire home. And the little surprise of seeing the sub-floor exposed in the bathroom. And the freaking mountain of garbage by the curb. And the fire they started in our wheelbarrow. Duuuude. We did not need this right now. But, whatever, life, right? *end tangent*)

So at my weigh-in I lost .7 of a pound. I also lost 2% body fat, taking my body fat from 37.1% at the start of the challenge, to 27.2% as of last night. If you can math, yep, that's one tenth shy of a TEN PERCENT loss of body fat. (Kemper was all, "If you stayed 154.3 and your body fat kept dropping I would be happy.)(I was all, "You are freaking crazy and a boy and I do *not* want to stay 154. I want to wear a bathing suit this summer, dude.)

Also on the agenda? Selfies. I'm pretty sure our internal
monologues included: Me = "Dude, how unfair that he has better
hair than me." and him = "Yep, it smells like Kelly just totally
enjoyed Core Blast."

After the weigh-in we went down to the cafe so Kemper could eat his dinner and I could ask ALLTHEQUESTIONS I had for that night. After he approved the next stage of my *fitness journey* (haha) we went back upstairs so he could show me how to use the machines I would need for the next phase. This was super fun and my new favorite machine is the one for assisted pull-ups because it feels like you are on a Ferris Wheel. Which? Is dope.


After thoroughly convincing me he does not see me as 34 years old - he sees me as closer to 64 years old since I don't text - we parted ways. Things only got weird that last minute and a half because I could feel myself starting to get teary because I do not do well with change and I just didn't want to leave. But just when you need him, Eminem will sing in your head and you will hear the opening strands of Mockingbird and Marshall will (personally) tell you, "Straighten up little soldier. Stiffen up that upper lip," and you totally will because you are a SWOLDIER. (One of my new favorite words ever.) Besides, I'll see Kemper next month when he destroys me with a workout and it will all be okay.

Me not smelling like Core Blast.
We clean up occasionally.

I found Sarah and we talked, and then I went home and ate the cookie that I have been saving since Lauren's baby shower. (I have been dreaming about this cookie for two full days. I passed on the shower cake and most of the shower food, knowing after my Monday night workout I could eat this one cookie. I only managed half, but it was delicious.)

Tomorrow I'll give you the recap of Lauren's big day. See you on the flip side.

You thought Cedar Point was the roller coaster capital of the Midwest? That's cute. Welcome to my head.

Don't worry. I bought you a ticket. You get to ride
for free.
You're welcome.

Given the choice, I would totally choose to be a girl. Which is a good thing, you know, since that's what I am. I've always liked that girls are so much more relational than boys, and softer, and they smell nicer more nurturing. On the flip side, though, girls are freaking CRAZY. We are emotional, can worry a molehill into a mountain, and can make ridiculous decisions that sound absolutely rational (in the moment) to our messed up emotions.

I have never felt more like a girl in my whole life than I do this week. It's like I ate Crazy Train Salad for dinner Monday night and have been high ever since. Except, of course, when I'm low. This week has been such a roller coaster.

Hey girl, stretch out those hip flexers.
Squat like a mother.

After my weigh in Monday night Kemper may have implied that he would be leaving Lifetime Fitness soon. My definition of soon meant six months. His definition of soon meant a few more weeks. I honestly couldn't even process that information at the time, so I ignored it and asked him to walk me through regular dead lifts. I have been doing straight leg dead lifts up until now, but I have been faithfully attending the Youtube school of Elliott Hulse, so I hoped that my hip flexors were finally stretched enough to handle regular dead lifts.

Kemper took me into the meathead section (it was packed), and showed me how to set up the bar and weights. Then he walked me through dead lifts. I'm not going to lie - it felt pretty freaking hardcore, once I got over facing the mirror and having my rear end face the rest of the gym. I did a few to get comfortable with the feel of it and Kemper corrected my form. Afterwards I felt like I conquered something huge. I felt indestructible. I WAS THE DEAD LIFT MASTER OF THE WORLD.

Then I got in my car to drive home and lost my marbles because Kemper was leaving soon, and I was scared out of my mind because I'm not ready to lose the training wheels yet.

It was just like this except my glass case of emotion looked like a red Ford Flex.

On Tuesday I got a phone call from a friend who wanted weight loss advice. Our phone call ended with me feeling like, "Hey, maybe I do know what I'm doing here! I can totally do this without Kemper. I am the boss of my choices." Hoorah! Later that evening I talked about proper squat form with a bunch of the teen boys from church who workout together and felt even more sure that I know what I'm doing. KEMPER WHO?! I GOT THIS.

Wednesday morning I went back to the gym and dead lifted all by myself. I had a fantastic workout and then cried like a freaking baby all the way home. Because girl. And fear. And sadness. Brian met me in the kitchen as I was coming home and he was heading into work. He was all, "Are you crying?" and then we talked about Kemper leaving and why it was so upsetting and he was slightly late to work but that's okay because he loves me more than both his job and Taco Bell. (#signsofastrongmarriage)

My greatest high came Wednesday morning. Just as I was still weepy and being super emo, I checked Twitter and this happened:

That's right, Elliott Hulse favorited my tweet. It's pretty much like he publicly acknowledged how much he loves me back and that we are best friends and I should come down to Florida and hang out at Strength Camp that he received the tweet I tagged him in. I called Brian right away and he taught me how to take a screen shot, so I'm almost caught up to the 21st century there.

On Thursday I was feeling all strong about Kemper leaving. I mean, I always knew he wasn't going to be around forever, right? I decided I needed to put a plan in place for my remaining time with Kemper. I got out my calendar to figure out how much time was left in the weight loss challenge, and then realized I didn't know when he was officially gone. Y'all. His last day is one. week. from. today. The challenge is another four weeks. I get one more weigh in with Kemper.

With that realization, I lost my crap.

Of course I decided the best thing was to talk to Kemper and figure out if he could continue to train me after he left. I rehearsed all the important things I wanted to say so that I could do it without being a crybaby nutcase and that plan was carried out in stellar fashion. (Haha, Sike.) Thursday night I met up with him at the gym. He looked terrified slightly apprehensive when I asked if we could talk over by the window because just maybe I had an inkling I was about to unleash the crazy and didn't want to do it in the middle of the lobby of Lifetime Fitness. I mean, I know I'm totally good with an audience, but ain't nobody want to see the mess that is giiiiiirl tears. I got through exactly two sentences of my planned monologue and then snotted all over my face and had to whisper words so I wouldn't hiccup.

It was awesome.

Kemper was all, "Ohmygosh Kelly, don't cry," because he's a totally nice guy and to his credit he didn't wig out much on the outside. Over all it was horribly embarrassing and I left feeling not much better but at the very least I'd gotten to communicate that what Kemper has done in my life has been very meaningful to me.

Now, because it's FRIDAY and I have an amazing weekend scheduled (I am throwing Lauren a baby shower with her sis-in-law!!!!!)(because remember that my bestie is having her first baby?!?!?!) I need to leave you all on an upswing. Good thing something incredible happened at the gym this morning...

I'm pretty sure they will all chip in
and get me one of these for my birthday.
Just to make it official.

Are you ready for this? When I workout early in the morning there is the same group of guys that lift in the meathead section. I go early because those five or six guys are less intimidating than the legions that show up at night, but I still spend my time there being invisible and unwelcome and feeling like an impostor. However, this morning? This morning as I was in position to start my second set of deadlifts? The moment when my body was tensed to lift but I paused and checked my form (like Elliott Hulse taught me to do) I glanced up and caught the eye of the alpha male of the group who was totally watching me and he gave me a bro nod.

Awwwwww, snap.

I'll be drinking my protein shakes with the boyz before I know it.

Heinz 57 (the post where we ketchup)

Seriously. I've been doing stuff and things.

This is how relationships die.

You're plugging along, living life, enjoying the relationships you've be blessed with, and suddenly busyness locks you in a choke hold. Not even fun busyness either, but the time consumption that comes from putting out a dozen little fires daily.

By the time you've survived the day, you lie* in bed at night (*totally correct - I Grammar Girled that mess) thinking of all the things you didn't get to, and communicating with loved ones falls into that category. "Tomorrow," you hazily think as you collapse into blissful unconsciousness.

The problem is that eventually too many "tomorrows" pile up, making the amount of sharing needing to happen grow into a monster sized accumulation of correspondence. This is wholly overwhelming, and cannot be undertaken in five minute bites and chews.

"I can't call because I only have twenty minutes and wouldn't know where even to begin with that amount of time." "This weekend I'll set aside a whole day just to catch up," and Saturday finds you grocery shopping at 5:00 a.m. just because you can't fit it in anywhere else in the entire day. (Hypothetically.)

This is where I find myself with blogging. How can I write a post about my return to running if I haven't even written that I NOW BELONG TO LIFETIME FITNESS?! How can I write about potty training when I haven't finished writing my post on grieving my GRANDfather, which includes the dawn of our potty training saga? How can I speak on dealing with weight gain when I haven't even written about BLACK FRIDAY* and the experiences in the dressing room which were the catalyst for admitting said weight gain?

(*I'm pretty sure we can agree that the Black Friday Recap Post ship has sailed. I mean, I'm pretty flexible about the unwritten blogging rules, (i.e. I make mine up as I go along) but I think a good general rule is to write about something within the same calendar year it happened.)

My brain can't consolidate any of that stuff, I get totally overwhelmed, and I'm left with the mantra (usually said in corpse position)(while under my covers in bed at night)(it's my own personal yoga studio)(#healthnut) "I'll blog tomorrow."

I don't want our relationship to die. So here is my Heinz 57 post. (I briefly thought about writing 57 bullet points of updates but then I had the epiphany of fifty seven bullet points, so I bailed on that plan.)(You're welcome.)

1. Ezra is sloooowly learning to pee in the potty. This was, of course, up until he got sick yesterday. He spent a miserable day dozing on the couch, with frequent breaks to throw up and/or scream for me to hold his hand. His fever has been a pretty consistent 101 degrees, so I'm not too worried. After having to physically carry him to the potty the third time, The Best Mom in the World said, "Forget this", and put him in a diaper. Smartest decision I made all day. (Which says a lot about the rest of the day.)(Or my decision making ability.) He asked, "I have diaper on?" every half an hour or so, effectively giving him the go-ahead to pee while still reclining on the couch, so, under certain standards, it was a pretty great day for him.

2. I had my first post-injury run on Saturday. It was brutal. I'm a hot mess. I'm writing a post called, "Bouncing Back from Injury". (Sike. I don't know what it will be called yet. Probably something sensationalist that really misleads the reader because I'm a creative genius.)

3. Lauren is PREGNANT. My bestie is having her first kid. My oldest will be able to babysit her oldest (in about two years). I'm gonna be an aunt! (A friend-like-a-sister aunt.)

4. My master plan to finally get cable totally backfired. I got Brian hooked on back seasons of The Walking Dead. Because we don't have cable our internet connection is snail like. After watching season 4, episodes 6 and 7 via Brian's iPhone, his data for the month ran out. I thought, "This is it. I'm finally getting cable. We have the mid-season cliffhanger finale left before the show resumes in February. One stinkin' little episode is going to get me cable!" I started daydreaming about House Hunter marathons, the deep clean my kitchen receives after watching Hoarders, and not messing any longer with rabbit ear antenna. Brian crushed my dreams by upgrading his iPhone data plan.

We huddled around his iPhone like fiends and watched the finale all zombie-like. (Yeah, I went there.) The current dilemma is what we do on February 9 when the shows returns.

Unrelated: Is creating a Kickstarter fund to raise money for cable out of the question? Asking for a friend.

I wish I had a fancy way to finish this post, but it's simply that my allocated time to write is gone, so I have to wrap it up. Esther and Ezra just woke up and they are discussing the merits of different methods of vomiting. That's a good place to end for today, don't you think?

Thanks for visiting. Let's do this again soon, OK?

Case of the Mondays: Revealed: My favorite joke, ever.

HAPPY (...happy...happy...) MONDAY (...Monday...Monday...)

Happy Monday? Yes, there is a lot to be happy about.

1. This dude had freaking brain surgery on Wednesday. And here he is yesterday proving the healing power of Target retail therapy.

He may be down half of a C1 vertebrae and sport an awesome looking incision (which Uncle Brian is trying to convince him to tattoo a zipper over) but the boy knows where happiness resides. In the toy aisle, duh.

Thanks for all your prayers for my little nephew. He is doing great, and already talking about returning to football next year. He has a few more weeks of healing ahead of him, but he is keeping his strength up with fun size Kit-Kats. Which? Is really the only way to do it.

I'm pretty sure it should have it's own
zip code.  Cuh-razy.

2. Brian had four hours of evaluation and testing at U of M Friday morning. The hospital system is ginormous. I took the older girlies while Lauren babysat Ezra and Esther, and while we were waiting for Brian (doing our schoolwork like responsible homeschoolers) a cart came around and offered us free coffee, hot chocolate, tea, or water. I felt like I was on an airplane except that I was allowed to leave my seat and pee whenever I wanted. Brian sees a doctor on Thursday who will interpret the testing and hopefully have some answers for us. And a game plan. That would be nice.

3. My next door neighbor is going to take over our lawn care while Brian is sick. This is because I'm spoiled rotten. He brought over his special pulled pork (that he smoked in his backyard all day long) because he could see us drooling from behind closed doors, and then asked if he could mow our lawn while he was doing his own. Twist my arm. (He also wanted to ask permission because he knows how much I love to mow the lawn, which I thought was sweet, but geez-louise am I overwhelmed right now, so um, yeah Don, you can totally take that over.)

4. I fixed our bathtub all by myself. I made sure I was as professional as possible, using tools like my tweezers* so I didn't have to touch the massive hairball that came up in clumps when I snaked the drain. (*Don't worry, not my good eyebrow tweezers; I'm not that committed.) I even had plumbers crack. You can call me Super Wife.




5. With my new bangs the first five minutes of every day is spent looking like an 80's rocker. So that's pretty awesome.

Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp

"Do you take sugar?
One lump or twoooooo?"

6. And finally, my favorite joke, ever:

A man walks into a zoo. The only animal in the entire zoo is a dog. It's a shitzu.

Eat your heart out, Joan Rivers

I'm pretty sure if we got robbed the
first thing they would steal is my
SWAG and I just cannot have that.

Drawing upon my extensive collection of standard internet safety procedures, I purposefully neglected to mention I was going out of town (again) last week. This was mostly to deter any shady characters out there who might be tempted to rob our home by denying them the helpful information of when our home would be empty. I'm sorry you had to suffer wondering why I was abandoning you yet again, but that's just a reminder that crime hurts everyone, y'all.

Brian and I loaded up the kiddos Thursday morning for a long weekend of ... camping. (I know, right?) I have lots of camping memories to share (memories I will treasure, I assure you) but I would be remiss if I skipped over the Red Carpet Run race recap.  Because honestly?  I did *not* work that hard on my outfit (i.e. I raided Lauren's stash of old dance costumes) to forego posting photos of all that fabulousness on the internet.

The Red Carpet Run is one of my favorite races.  I ran it last year with Rose where she smoked me in the dress department.  Here is a reminder:

Blue sequined dress and a blinking feathered tiara?  It's like I had no chance.

This year, I was determined to up my game. (I might take a moment to mention that this is actually a 5k. It is a timed 3.1 mile run with bib numbers, course support, and people that actually care about the running aspect. But for this race - I am no longer one of them.  (but remember when I got my sub-30 5k here last year?) This race, for me, is all about the *ahem* fashion.) I may have been thinking about my dress since the drive home from last year's race.

When Lauren gave me her old dance costumes for my little girlies to play dress up, I quickly pilfered the one I thought most likely to fit my favorite. For months it has been hanging in my closet waiting to debut on the red carpet. It was only a few hours before the race that I thought to try it on.  Turns out that it totally had a leotard underneath the skirt.  Who knew? It was like encountering unexpected Spanx and who wouldn't be excited about that? Thank the good Lord that not only do I excel at fashion but I am also a master at sucking in the Mama Gut.  I still had to wear my running capris under the skirt so by the time I was all dressed I was layered like it was 1800 A.D.

The weather this year was pretty decent.  It was in the upper 70's, sunny, and a bit humid.  I was worried about my perfectly coiffed 'do coming undone because that's what it does, and I really needed it to stay in place in order to showcase the loveliness of my dollar store tiara.

"Oh Hair, you are so funny!  Stop it, Hair!"

Lauren, Rose, and our friend Jackie all ran the race.  (Also, one of Rose's students - Rose is a cheer leading coach - ran as well.) We met up before the start to let the paparazzi capture us in all our glory.

Rose's student, Jackie, me, Lauren, and Rose.  And did you catch that tagline?  "For the young and fabulous."  Obviously.

We spent a few minutes posing in different locations.  I mean, give the public what they want, right?

Posed and sassy.

Candid shoe modeling.  And I'm pretty sure I never shut my mouth.  Literally.

Jackie's first race!  I'm like a proud Mama Bear.

Bitter.  The only word I can think of to describe how I felt upon discovering Rose broke out fishnet stockings for the race. She is some stiff competition, my friends. 

I planned to simply follow my half marathon training plan which called for a 3 mile run at half marathon pace.  Since I am aiming for a 2:30 half, that breaks down to about an 11:26 second mile.  I never wear any kind of running watch and I am horrible at pacing.  I know my normal pace is around 10:30, so I just planned to run this slow and easy.

We started all together, and Lauren's husband David captured probably my favorite picture in the history of the world.  To me this is one of those "how many things are going wrong?" pictures.  So.much.win.

Lauren's all, "I'm a ballerina but I'm being a smiley warrior."
I'm all, "I'm a warrior and a ballerina and have a GIANT FRONT LEG."
Rose is all, "I bet I could master the most unflattering positioning of my face and body all in one shot if I just stride far enough and yell out a 'woo'. Also, check out my hair."
Jackie is all, "Rose.is.awesome."

Soon we split off and I remembered just how hilly this race is.  It was also really hard running in velour.  I didn't realize how spoiled I am running in my sweat wicking clothing until all my sweat and body heat were trapped inside my admittedly beautiful costume.  I experienced my first chaffing since becoming a runner, which I'm pretty sure means I get some sort of merit badge.  My iPod left a painful red patch on my inner arm. It made me feel pretty hardcore, so I probably showed it to way more people than necessary. (Um, like all of them?)

I ended with an official time of 31:01, with an average pace of 10:00 min per mile.  Since I was aiming for 11:00, I need to work on my pacing.  But I'm not going to pretend I'm unhappy with a faster time than I thought I would have. Because that's just stupid.

Just steps from the finish.  And in the middle of an exhale.

Rose stayed with Jackie the whole time, sacrificing a PR and coaching her through her first race.  A fellow runner sought out Rose after the race to share how encouraging it was to watch, and said she wished she had Rose to run with next time!  I love the running community.  Jackie (and Rose) finished in around 45 minutes and Lauren PR'd by about 5 minutes! (The person who won the entire race ran it in 15:03.  Yep. 15:03 - did I stutter? He passed me going in the opposite direction at the one mile mark well on his way to finishing. The dude was flying.) (But? His costume totally sucked ... so who's the *real* winner now, hmmm?)

5k FINISHER!!!

What a great race and a fun time.  I can't wait for next year!