When You Can't Feel It

Lorraine Says: I just finished having the driest salad ever invented. I’m pretty sure it had two bite-sized pieces of chicken and three cranberries. It came with almost no non-fat-blah-blah-blah dressing. I could’ve sneezed on this salad and it would’ve been wetter. (I’m preemptively regretting saying wetter in a post.)

This, sadly, is what my life has come to. I’m trying. I’m trying a lot.

For the second week in a row, Roxanne and I took a Sunday night, joint grocery store trip, to make sure we had healthy food options for the week. We’re still consistently attending the gym, and on days we need a break, we walk around the track at the nearby community college, or around the small airport that’s just next to it.

Can we talk about the gym for second? We do a ton of cardio whenever we’re there, and no you sick bastards, Roxanne and I don’t cardio cardio. Occasionally, we’ll use some of the other workey-outey machines, but lately we’ve been interested in using the free weights.

Oh, Lord.

We’ve run into these problems so far:

1. We don’t exactly know what we’re doing.
2. We are easily embarrassed, which means that we’ll mostly try to run away from people. This leaves us using the aerobics room, when there aren’t any classes going on, which brings me to problem #3:
3. Who thought it’d be a good idea to fill the gym with mirrors? Wanna know what I don’t want to do? Work out in front of a mirror.
4. We suffer from the “I don’t feel it, this isn’t working” complex, where you don’t feel it so you think it isn’t working. I’m sure anyone who’s slept with Bret knows what I mean, but lets focus on actual work outs for a moment. We jump the gun and either end up abandoning the 5 pound weights for something only Superman should handle, or we just keep doing crazy shit with the weights so that the next day, we want to chop off our extremities.
5. When we’re sore, we don’t want to push ourselves at the next workout. We want to not move our arms.

We’ve taken to Googling articles and attempting to build some sort of smart work out plan that doesn’t consist of “move a lot” and “don’t bring chocolate to the gym.”

Speaking of chocolate, on Monday I realized that it’d been approximately 2 weeks since I had a chocolate bar. I thought of how awesome it would be to write about that in this here post. I thought about it a lot. I started to get twitch. No. Chocolate. Two. Weeks.

I’ll let you guys guess what happened next. It rhymes with Twitter Fort Mar. It’s okay though because I skipped dinner that day and instead had a double helping of guilt.

Not everything has changed, obviously, but like I said: I’m trying.

 

(Also, I’m not pregnant like Lily, so I win!)

Lily Says: Embarrassing yourself at the gym is priceless. I wish I could be there.

If your salad is dry, you should try getting Bret to cry in it. I'm sure the salty tears would add tons-o-flavor to the lettuce and what nots.

Lorraine Says: Apparently, my actual effort  have left the other blobs speechless. They don't even know what to say when someone isn't going on and on about failure. 

Maybe next week, blobs. Maybe next week. Or! Wait until tomorrow for Bret, who might even have another picture that'll break the internet. 

Dream a little dream.

Street Walkers Burn Lots of Calories

Lorraine Says: Today, I've decided not to cry over how I'm not as cool as these other blobs who are spending their days playing video games and using apps to calculate how fat they are, though I'm sure looking in a mirror would help as well.

Today, I'm just going to complain about this really old school concept, back from the days when we started this blog and wanted to lose weight and look like Ethiopians: the gym.

Here's my problem this week, I'm finding, in my quest to be even skinnier than you bulbous bitches: fitting the gym into my schedule. Of course I'd find all this "get up and go" motivation the same week I start school again. Maybe there is just something about being 24 and deciding to go back to school that makes you feel you'd rather be at the gym. Regardless, I have significantly less time after work and the gym just isn't fitting as nicely as I'd like.

So, last night, I basically decided that if Gym and I were going to remain on a first name basis, I was going to have to start seeing him first thing in the morning. This is almost like that time I convinced myself I should stop eating chocolate.

Basically, I like to sleep. I start work at 8:30am and wake up at 8:45am daily. My bosses love it, I'm sure. This whole "waking up early to work-out" thing is going to be difficult for me. Then again, I only ever have to do it once a week, and I'll still have all of you beat.

There's this week's new goal. Oh, and also, buy a new scale. No. Seriously. For real this time.


The Bear Monk Says: Morning gym? Are you really going to feed us that line of bullshit? Thought about trying a gym that's open 24 hours a day? Then you could hit the gym after you're done with your street walking. Hell I'm betting street walking would be some pretty decent cardio as you're clearly not getting any of the other kind of "cardio".

Why don't you grab another chocolate bar and a zebra cake and drown your sorrows with a tall glass of beer?

Oh and as a side note...good luck shopping for a scale that will lie to you in a more satisfactory manner.


Lorraine Says: My gym is open 24 hours, but after the work, school, and street walking, really I'm all tuckered out. As you can imagine.

Don't make any comments on how much "cardio" I'm getting. We all know the only reason you get any is because you tricked the Wife into marrying you and now she's stuck. Oh, and because Bret won't stay away from your asshole.

Also, my current scale seems to think I'm skinnier than I think I am. I don't need lying to. I need truth!


Bret the wee-wee-less wonder says: I still say all the workout you need is a pee-wee football team and a jar of Vaseline.  Isn't that how you were conceived???   


Lily Says: Are we not using No-Wee-Wee's scale anymore????


Lorraine Says: Bret, you are confusing the story of how I was conceived with where you've been since the start of the year. And Lily, I'm determined to use an accurate scale. No-Wee-Wee can keep convincing himself he's losing weight on the "Chee diet."