Day Sixty-Two: The P is Silent

Good news: I don't have swine flu!

Bad news: I have pneumonia.

So what now? Doc gave me two days of home rest, some super antibiotics and an inhaler that's my new best friend until she says so. She said pneumonia takes weeks, if months, to recover from. Don't I know it: had it a few times growing up as a poor asthmatic kid without medical coverage. I wasn't going to the doctors unless I was blue in the face (which sadly happened a lot). So hey! This time I got the diagnosis of pneumonia BEFORE I needed hospital care! I consider this progress.

So what about the PCP? Patrick and I discussed today and we agreed that I would take the next week off and then we will revisit this matter. My only hope right now is to breathe through my nose again and not get winded unloading the dishwasher (today's true story).

Not gonna lie: I feel a bit cheated out of my path to PCP victory. But Patrick urged me not to feel that way, that once I get back to the PCP it'll come back and my healthier body will help me recover faster. I hope so. He also encouraged me to blog still, so I will if I have something enlightening to say.

Thanks to everyone for their kinds thoughts and well-wishes. I appreciate them!

Day Sixty-One: I Didn't Order the Pork

Day Three of The Plague. It's been a rough go. Thank god for nice neighbors who brought me soup and offered to take the kid (she stayed, wanted to take care of her momma).

Symptoms: Fever of 100+ since Friday night. Chills, aches, lost of appetite, vomiting (just water) last night, congestion in chest and head. I haven't been ill like this in years. Sure I've had a 48 hour norovirus but that at least has an end. This just keeps going ... and throw on top of this parenting (the kid has been perfect though, quietly playing downstairs as I maintain my germfest in my bedroom. sure the house is a wreck but at least only one of us is sick, right?)

Yes, I will visit the doctor tomorrow. Trying not to think about swine flu (but totally thinking about swine flu).

Day Sixty: The Plague

Still sick.

No eat.

No exercises.

Just sleep. For almost 24 hours now with a few waking moments here and there.

Not exactly what I envisioned for Day 60 post.

Bummer.

How do I recover? How do I catch up on PCP? And when?

Day Fifty-Nine: If You Want To Destroy My Sweater

I have asthma. Since I was four. Countless hospital stays, emergency rooms visits, breathing treatments, pills, inhalers, oxygen masks and once Last Rites when they didn't think I would live.


Once I grew up and scored full-time employment, a mere six years ago, I was able to enroll in health care and my asthma seemed to disappear as I was able to afford preventative care, treat my triggers, get weekly allergy shots and annual doctor visits. After all this, I forget sometimes that I have a condition that affects 17 million people in the United States, killing approximately 5,000 every year.

But I was reminded today: as I walked the kid down to her school, large mowers were trimming down the fields of tall grass surrounding the building. Cut grass lay all over the sidewalk and blew in the wind. By the time I got back home, I was wheezing. And I wheezed all day; I felt out of breathe. I still do. Like a stack of bricks on my chest. Or trying to breathe through a pillowcase over my head. So I'm taking a night off because I know my limits. Pull this thread as I walk away ...

Day Fifty-Eight: Burn, Baby, Burn

So yeah ... my muscles hurt. But I like it. So do Fred and Sidney.

Day Fifty-Seven: The Ties That Bind

I talk to my mom every weekend. We are not terribly alike, but I look forward to these phone calls. I have a lot of relatives, but not a lot of family, ifyougetwhatimsayin'. Mom is always there for me in the proverbial sense. I can make her laugh, and she can make me feel like I can do anything.

She arrives here in late September for a visit, right during my Day 90 completion of the PCP (a little more than a month away ~ woot!). She lives in the South these days, so distance and money keep visits far and few between. Like three years in between. As you can imagine, we are excited for her visit to Colorado for one week. I was asking her on the phone what groceries I need to buy to keep her happy at my homestead and she said something to the effect of "nothing weird ... none of that healthy stuff."

At least that's what I heard. See I was raised on Tuna Helper, Campbell's Tomato soup (milk recipe), Tang and the occasional block of orange government cheese. Mom was never an adventurous eater, either; and to top that off, she was a yo-yo dieter. And she bakes. A lot. She's very good at it. Ruh-roh ...

I'd like to end the PCP on a good note, but Mom is already asking for burger-and-shake places. Hmmm. I love Mom, but this is an inheritance I wish to avoid.

Day Fifty-Six: Important Notice

Sometimes I feel strong and toned. Sometimes I feel weak and soft.

Sometimes I feel that in the same day. The same hour even.

I feel my limbs, looking for evidence. I tug at the skin, the chub.
Is it smaller than before? Are there muscles under this?
Does anyone notice? I don't sometimes.
Maybe it's all an illusion. Maybe it's just in my head.
In my dreams ...

But then my neighbor says, in the midst of his surprise party:

Hey, you're really working hard. I see you out there every day.
I'm impressed.
His wife, on a different day, says:
No, I can tell. This shirt would have been snug on you before.
And my former coworker and pal,
who lives nearby, caught me by surprise as he ran by and teased:
hey grrrrrl! work it! lookin' smooth!
He said I was rockin' it. That he couldn't do this.
(I don't believe that, by the way.)
And my friend, the one who runs marathons,
teaches yoga and rides in statewide bike tours, says:
i've totally started reading your pcp blog before i work out.....a nice little motivator*
i love how real your blog is...
I got veklempt.
My frown turned upside down.

So thank you,
the people who notice
or pretend to notice
and let us know that you notice
because we notice when you do.

*this blog entry is dedicated to my dearest friend, Cara.
my first college friend

BFF
godmother to my child
birthday girl (happy 30th!)
first-time home owner as of today
xoxoxo

Day Fifty-Five: Picture This

Today was hard, and I felt like at this stage it shouldn't be. Not to say I couldn't be challenged per se, but why do I feel more like quitting than before? Grouch, grouch, grouch ... I don't feel like I have any good reason to grouch, either. So to pep myself up and avoid sounding ungrateful (I truly feel that at times grouching begets more grouching, which is harder to get out of, you know?), I want to post some pics of my "gym." These are the sights I see whilst slaving away at the PCP:

dragonfly by

petal pusher

thunderhead to the north

puffballs in the sky

eerie storm

homegrown pumpkin
thrift store patio table with a fresh coat of paint

Day Fifty-Four: Counting Cards is Bad

Today's high temperature was 98, (sorry only could find a map of yesterday's highs, which were a smidge under today's). That's 13 degrees above normal which broke a record from the late 1800s. I could tell it was going to be a scorcher today. This map is basically the color of my brain on a hot day. I had gotten behind on my PCP exercises due to some unexpected guests/events this weekend (darn you, weekends and your helter skelter lack of routine and schedule!) and so I woke up to catch up on them this morning. But even at 9a.m. in the shade the thermostat read near 80. Uh oh. I did as much as I could, then scurried inside, slammed some headache meds, ate and when the inside temps got to much (I don't have AC), I passed out in a sweaty, dreamy coma for the afternoon to avoid/sleep through the coming mirgaine. It was just too bright and sunny, which took me down HARD yesterday afternoon. It was rough. I didn't want a repeat performance; sleep, food and pain meds help. So do a quiet house.

When I awoke, I was rather chipper and did my usual PCP shopping and went on to finish my workout(s). The mosquitoes are getting smart and nailed me two places bug spray missed: my knuckles and my ears. Which makes it even harder to jump. Man ... I suck at these timed jumps. It's hard to slow down. I also get fatigue in my wrists, ankles and even my fingers holding the rope. I always have to stop for a few seconds, usually with 1:30 to go. And if I try to slow down, I trip. It really sucks when you trip, but then you get the nice sting from the rope against your legs or arms to remind you how much you truly suck. Implement of Torture indeed! To sweeten my timed jumps, which I time with my iPhone, I used a pinball ring tone, so when I'm finished, it sounds like I won the jackpot.

Day Fifty-Three: Shaken, Not Stirred

So I'd like to get a consensus on how everyone deals with their protein powder. I've got a tub of CytoSport Cocoa Bean, which is tasty and mixes better than the previous one I used, something picked off the shelf at my local grocer's. Also tried a small canister of protein powder from Whole Foods. I'm happiest now with CytoSport but ... is a shaker better to avoid lumps? Or blender? Would love to hear how you serve it up, and if you use a shaker, which kind/brand (and where to get it!).

Day Fifty-Two: Role Model? or Rolls Model?

After my bath last night, I was getting dressed and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was in a new pair of skivvies and (sadly smaller) bra and I thought "Hey .... wait a second. I look ... trim!" Well, more trim. But there it was: muscle lines in my upper body, sleek calves, tightening thighs and ... what's this? Possible lines forming on the sides of my torso?!?!? Sure I still have a soft, gooey center, but ... it's smaller; the sides, narrower. NO WAY. See, I've always been a fairly modest person and typically Just Say No to Nudity kind of person (name that movie! anyone? anyone? Bueller? no, not Bueller! But guess! Great, great movie) especially since losing my eighth-grader body shape since the kid's arrival on the scene nearly six years ago.

Sure back then I traipsed along southwest Florida's beaches as a newly-minted 23-year-old vessel of human life in a two-piece, but I was comparative eye candy against octogenarians with breast implants. I was gonna win that swimsuit contest, hands down. But after the Great Birth, I felt deflated and my ego/body/self image never quite recovered. Which I am now reminded of every time I do planks (hello lower torso! I can see you waving to me as I stare down my own shirt! I'm waving, too! See?!?! See? My middle finger? Yep, that's for you, buddy!) *sigh* ... I also get this nifty little stabbing pain in my lower left abdomen that never goes away no matter how many ab exercises I do. I feel it every time with crunches, kung fu sit-ups, leg ups, side crunches. And I often feel sick to my stomach after these sets quivering on the floor. Will I ever feel or look good again?


This body image issue was doubly on my mind as I read this article today about Glamour featuring a photo of a "real woman" who is a plus-size model (ha, yea I know, right?) in this month's magazine. She's the person in the photo above. I was torn: I recognized some of myself in her, with her curves and lumps and dimply flesh yet there is joy and laughter and a messy ponytail. And then a small part of me was suspicious: is this just a ploy to get Fat America 'ok' with their curvy, lumpy, dimply selves? How does PCP fit into this movement of loving who you are physically, even with an unPCP body? Is this movement just breeding physical complacency and even laziness and gluttony? Is being unPCP acceptable if you make it popular? Argh too many questions ... brain freeze.

Day Fifty-One: Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Completed my Day 50 and half of Day 51 exercises. I'll do the other half of Day 51 and entire Day 52 tomorrow. I feel good today!


The new menu has big changes: more bananas, protein shakes, AMAYW veggies and no true dinner. The exercise plans has changes, too. I'm adjusting to the timed jump ropes. I've always been more a sprinter than a marathoner, and with PCP it has felt no different. Before I liked to hurry my sets of 100 reps and I got pretty fast. But here I am again doing something new with the timed jumps my shins burn and my ankles and wrists are fatigued before two minutes are finished. I only had one set ~ the final one ~ where I jumped the entire time without stopping or tripping.

This is where it gets hard. But this is where I need to go. Fred and Sidney are excited for more. Pity that tank top season ends in mere weeks.

Day Fifty: No Go

It seems when I lack structure, all hell breaks loose. Today was a new schedule for me and the kiddo, and then some appointments I had made on my day off were canceled last minute which threw off my plans, and then my to-do list grew to 10+ things, and I got them all done by golly and while doing this I managed to eat PCP-ly which was fantastic especially since I really wanted pumpkin bread or a cookie, but see I was no where near a printer today (I don't own one) so I did not have my handy dandy printouts of my workouts and sure I could lug my computer out to the garage or scribble them down on scrap paper, but there's nothing as satisfying as the scratch of my pen making hash marks next to each workout and tiny printed-out Patrick deftly doing his PCP exercises. See I have a thing, I like this way of doing things and it didn't happen today. It'll happen tomorrow but not today unfortunately and now I have a headache and now I'm going to bed. Do I feel bad? A little bit. But I got 2/3 of PCP done today (blog + food), which is not an excuse and it's not enough but it's what I did get done. Tomorrow is back to 100 percent. Actually, 133 1/3 percent ... i was never good at math.

Day Forty-Nine: Lose My Lunch

Today was hectic, running from appointment to appointment. Took kid to the dentist at 8a.m., then scurried to work for a strategy meeting which ran from 9 a.m. to 1:30p.m. and then off to get the kid from her last day at preschool and then off to her ENT specialist appointment, where the mystery of her ear bleeding was resolved. Needless to say, I under-ate during the whole day after my PCP breakfast.

But I avoided the danish at the coffee spread provided for us and at lunch I gave away the chips and GIANT cookie that came with our boxed lunches; I stuck with my order of a modest tuna sandwich, which had very light mayo throughout, thank goodness, and lotsa veggies on top. Mmm. That was tough as most of the prepackaged meals had something forbidden: bacon, chipotle dressing, etc. Tuna even with the mayo seemed the least offensive. I also laughed that the diameter of the cookie was bigger than my sandwich. I got back on track with eating when I got home and made the switched to the now timed portions of jump ropes (seven sets of two-minutes on the jumpropes). I think this will take some getting used to. I was also still very tired today and not in the mood.

Speaking of lunch: The kid starts kindergarten tomorrow! At the kindergarten open house yesterday I received a copy of the hot lunch menu, and oh my. Here are the school district's goals with school lunch and here is this month's menu . Looks like bar food to me. Nachos? Mozzarella sticks? And a variety of fried/krispie chicken forms? And from covering this school district as a newspaper reporter back in the day, I know that the alternative to the daily main meal for the hot lunch kids is your old standby of PBJ. But they use Uncrustables, a prepackaged processed sandwich; click the link to see the nutritional value and ingredients. Yikes, right?

I had long decided since the kid was a pick eater that I would pack her lunch daily; I hate to waste money and I hate to waste food. She likes what she likes and would rather go without that eat something else but thankfully, in addition to our affinity for Oreos, she likes a lot of good stuff, too: bananas, yogurt, unsweetened applesauce, chicken, pasta (whole wheat; she doesn't even notice as long as it looks white), mandarin oranges, juice, milk, etc. But after seeing the school menu, I'll happily pack two lunches, hers and mine, every morning.

Day Forty-Eight: Hot Mess

I apparently needed a good cry tonight, which happen to bubble to the surface RIGHT in the middle of my jump ropes. Totally awesome, let me tell you. In addition to my sweat and bug spray, I was soon covered in my own hot blubbering tears. Like it was bad. But I kept jumping, which at first felt like I might drown in my own tears right there in the dark driveway with all the choking and gasping and blubbering ~ I mentioned the blubbering right? Have I no shame???? ~ and for a moment I was convinced that I would trip on the jump rope, knock myself unconscious and indeed die alone in the dark and no one would discover me until the next morning morning and when they did, they would see either a skunk or feral cat ate half my face. But by goddamnit I was gonna finish those exercises. So I did.

Off to shower and slumber ... and hopefully sanity.

Day Forty-Seven: Right to Bare Arms

Today's exercises included, for the first time, kung fu sit-ups, which for the uninitiated, is a 1. leg lift while 2. hanging from a chip-up bar overhead. Think pull-up meets leg-up. Yea ... these suck. I also felt my regular crunches more deeply today.

First, no doorway of mine would fit my pull-up bar that I purchased. Too big, too narrow. Oh no! But after trying all the doorways, the bar looked to fit in the door to the garage (so not ideal for wintry months post-PCP) and I didn't have the means to get it installed tonight. So off to the nearby playground, which offers a nice array of bars for me to torment myself with. Then, I had a difficult time even just hanging there, let alone lifting my legs up to create an L-shape with my lower body. I had to rest with feet on the platform between each one. I felt a little bad for the profanity I spewed because it was, after all, not only an elementary school but my kiddo's school starting this week. Also, my delicate little lady palms are getting callouses. This, in addition to the inclined pull-ups I'm stuck doing because I completely lack the upper body strength to do even one regular pull-up, is rough on my hands. And the boys always complimented my soft hands ... No more, gents! Sorry! You can blame Patrick. I know I do. ;)

I try not to be disheartened that I cannot do much 0f any of these particular upper body exercises. No one likes feeling weak. No one likes repeatedly failing. But I'm trying to look at it as repeatedly trying so... I've got that going for me, eh? Err ... hey at least I can crank out the inclined pull-ups! Basically, and I've said this to a few people so far, I'm just striving for toned arms somewhere between scary Madonna and svelte Michelle Obama. I just wanna look good in a tank top.

p.s. Here is a pic of a chalk drawing by the kid: it's me exercising with my daughter by my side; she is holding an umbrella over my head because it is raining. Love that she is always looking out for me. (And that she notices I work out, even in the rain. She hates the rain.)

Day Forty-Six: Veghead

Spent a lovely morning at the gym where I finished up some PCP arm exercises from yesterday. People were curious and wanted to know more. Then I went by the farmer's market.

This is all that I scored:

And this is what I picked from my own garden:
And then I went to the grocery store to score my fruit, milk and protein. Still struggling with a loss of appetite. Hard to get through meals. Hope my new purchases help! I think so. I was eating tomatoes off the vine in the rain today before thunder scared me inside. And I already prepped the farmer's market carrots (orange and red!), green beans (so pretty), beets and broccoli so I don't even have to think about them this week. Just grab and go. However I don't plan on eating the sunflowers. Those are just for show.

Day Forty-Five: Half Full or Half Empty?

My Day 45 post. Half way, baby!

So how do I feel?

I'm excited to be at the midway point.
But will I lose steam? Or am I just getting starting?
Is this just a phase? Or a rest-of-life change?
Will I ever eat an Oreo again? Will I even want to?

Stay tuned!

Day Forty-Four: O-Face

(what did you think i was going to write about? sheesh, people)

My MO during this kind of week is utter exhaustion. It reared its ugly head after work, though the yawning started early afternoon. Listless and bored, I got home and climbed into bed for "just a bit" but woke up two hours later. It was dark. Crickets. Coyotes. Bed felt so good I considered just staying until the morning. But I didn't. I got out of bed telling myself I would just do the jump ropes. But then I fell into my usual PCP routine and wa-LAH! I was done and only suffered two mosquito bites. Reminded me of this:

You never regret working out; you always regret when you don't.

Day Forty-Three: A Little Help from My Friends

Thanks to all who had feedback on my utter dismay at coffee being reduced in my diet. *sigh* I'll get over it; I always do. And I don't hate you, Patrick; I'm sorry. That was the java addiction talking. It's being threatened. I know. Coffee is my blankie. My comfort item. My stuffie, as the kiddo would say. I like having one in hand most of the day, even when I don't drink most of the hot bevvie. I also like the ritual of going to get one.

And this next seven days is full of moments where I'd like to have my comfort item at the ready. The kid ends preschool; bye-bye familar and safe cocoon! The kid starts kindergarten; hello people, I will gauge eyes out if my child is harmed, forgotten or left behind in anyway! Nice to meet you! The kid gets yet another inner ear procedure at the doctors, though unsure at this time who will do more squirming and crying, her or me; why Doctor, let's hope this time we FINALLY get to the source of the problem as, no offense, I hope to never see you again. Ok thanks bye now. And this week is a particularly *sensitive* week to tell this female she has to cut back on her coffee consumption. Just sayin' ...

Nah it's cool. I'll get through it. I still get to have coffee just not as much as I'd like and much like a spoiled child I will reign in my emotions and do what is indeed best for me. *eyeroll* I'm kidding. And Patrick, damn you, calling my bluff out with the whole "peak condition or coffee? it's your choice" ~ who do I look like, King Solomon? But I have to say this last week I've noticed has this awesome sense of community and PCP love and support kicking into high gear. Thank you all so much! I read your blogs; I'm amazed that anyone, especially strangers, read mine. I think about you guys when I have my tough moments down in the valley; your kind words, advice and your own tough moments in the valley of PCP help me feel less alone. xoxoxo melanie

Day Forty-Two: I'll Cry if I Want To

The jump ropes were smooooooth today, if I may say so myself. Cranked 1,500 out lickety split with nary a trip amongst my sets and I managed to impress a carload of booming-music, disaffected teens who were cruising up and down my street in their sweet, sweet ride. Thanks, morons.

Also received the next week's exercises + diet plan. FINALLY: a week more of 1,500 j-ropes and then we go to the timed portions of j-ropes. Something new! I wonder if I can hang. I'll probably hate it. But who cares! I want to see if I can do it. Uncool: Patrick docked coffee from my diet. Well, he said we could have one cup a day. Um, hello? You cannot be serious. Now, folks, let's remember this blog post as where I throw a hissy fit.


IDONTWANNA!NO!YOUCAN'TMAKEME!IHATEYOU!WHYOHWHYOHWHYOHWHY!WHYDOYOUHATEME!WHYAREYOUDOINGTHISTOME!ARRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH NONONONONONONONOIDONTWANNA!YOURETHEDEVIL!

OK. I think I'm OK now. No, nope, that's just not true.

I've quit coffee before. Like four times or something. And it was sucky every time. Like really sucky. And pre-PCP I was having >one cup in the a.m. and MAYBE >one cup in the afternoon. I was content with this. But now I'm back to a 3-cup a day habit (you SAID coffee was permittable! you SAID!) and now I have to cut back and yes I want to cry. Weep, even. Couldn't I just do, like, extra sets of tricep dips? or side crunches? Please? Pretty please?

Day Forty-One: I See PCP People

I have a similar problem as Heather : loss of appetite. I wake up very hungry, so that's good. But as the day goes on, eating becomes less desirable. I rarely want to eat a full dinner. Also, I've been a carnivore as long as I remember, but lately I have little want to consume protein. But I do (only fish and beef; for some reason chicken really grosses me out lately) and I enjoy the protein shakes. Am considering a shaker. Big surprise: I'm really enjoying my fruits and my drinkable yogurts which was unimaginable a month ago. Tomorrow, Day 42, is the end of yet another week on the PCP. Relief with "just" 1,500 jumpropes. But what's next?!?!?

(just kidding. sort of.)

Day Forty: Coz I Gotta Have Fa-Fa-Fa-Faith UHHHH (Baby!)

I wish I could say Day 40 *feels* like something, either an accomplishment or a continued uphill battle. I mean if you look at the biblical stories in the faith of my upbringing, 40 Days is kind of a big deal.

• Noah was in the Ark for 40 days so God could wash the world clean; he waited another 40 days to leave and step on dry land.
  
• Moses spent 40 days on the mountain chillin' with da Lord
• Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness being tempted by the devil (some days I can imagine just how He felt)
• Then there's Lent ...
  

But this Day 40 feels like just another day. Perhaps this is what Day 91 will feel like. Should feel like? As in ... this is how my life is now. Unbelievable? Yes I've gotta have faith...

WWJD? Perhaps ...the PCP?

Day Thirty-Nine: Out of The Mouths of Babes

The kid just asked me very seriously: "Mom, when can you have Oreos again?"

I've been declining food left and right from her for almost 40 days. Cupcakes and zucchini bread from school. French fries and lemonade at home. She realized today that we haven't baked anything nor have we been to our favorite Chinese food place in a "long, long time." I realized today that she's just like me ...

We are food sharers.

I told her I could have Oreos again in about 50 days. You should have seen her face. *GASP* The horror ...

But despite her/our affection for Oreos and other baked goods, she inspires me on the PCP. She likes bananas and yogurt and eggs and sugarless applesauce. She thinks it's amusing to watch me eat yogurt or a banana with a grimace. I'd like to be more like her sometimes. She eats when she is hungry; she stops when she is not. She loves to be active, and today we went for a bike ride. "I just love to be outside!" she cooed. And fall soccer is coming up, and she loves to pretend she is Cheetara not because she is yellow (her favorite), beautiful or the lone female adult character of the Thundercats, but "because she is a fast runner."

Recently she picked up the word "fat" from one of her buddies; I don't use that word and we had a very serious talk about how often that is a hurtful word, which like "stupid" and "shut up," we shall not use. She's not uttered it since. And likewise she is noticing my new eating and exercise habits (she loooooooves to help me pick out new fruit and veg each week, she loooooooves when we go to the park so I can exercise on the weekends). I hope this PCP mentality is seeping into her brain as much as mine.

Day Thirty-Eight: When Other People Suck

Dear You,

I heard You snicker in my direction as someone asked about the PCP and wanted to see the muscle lines appearing on my bicep. You snickered as you walked by so perhaps you didn't think I would notice, but I noticed. And then I called You out on it. Did you just snicker at me? Why would you snicker at me? I know I'm not as tough or as hardcore as You. But You never judged me before for my size, whether I was willowy or post-pregnancy lumpy. And You see me almost everyday out with the jump rope or writhing down on the floor of a dirty garage attempting ab exercises that You know hurt me physically and egotistically. And I thought You understood because you most of the time help me find the time to fit the PCP into my life and You humor my questions about fitness. And You yourself have something that resembles peak condition; isn't that something I should have, too? Your snicker now makes me think otherwise ...

Your snicker sucked. Your snicker stuck. Not forever, but for now. But You will still find me out with my jump rope and out on the floor of the garage and showing people my blooming muscles lines. So thanks, I needed another motivator.


Sincerely, Me

Day Thirty-Seven: Momma Said Knock You Out

Warning: I'm feeling feisty. This is neither good nor bad. Just is. Punchy. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. You can't catch me! I blame my workout this morning. I only did half before I rushed off to work (all 1,400 jump ropes, all leg exercises, and push-ups --- how I've missed you, one of the few exercises that makes me feel strong and not weak!). But I've had some kiwi (forgot how much I enjoy those), and bought some new protein powder to try, and when I get home later tonight, the rest of my PCP workout awaits me in the dark. Guess which tune I will be humming ...

Day Thirty-Six: Please Answer in the Form of a Question

PCP workouts are tough enough some days, but then I have days like today, where my chatterbox 5-year-old daughter pops in:



Scene: the opened garage at a typical mass-produced house in a typical American suburb. Dusk. A mother is attempting various exercises, including 1,400 jumpropes, bicycles, sets of 40-second planks, and a variety of arm exercises.

Mother, jumping yet another set of 100 jump ropes: (one, two, three, four, five, si-)
Kid: Hey Moooooom? Can I have Oreos?
Mother: (SIX, seven, eight, nine,te-)
Kid: MOM? Can I have five Oreos?
Mom: FOUR. You (ten) can (eleven) have (twelve) four (thirteen. thirteen? four? fourteen? shit!)
Kid: But I want five Oreos.
Mom: (stops jumping) No. You can have four. Or zero if you ask me again.
Kid: Four! (runs inside house)
Mom: Shit. Fuck. Piss. Where was I ...

Ten minutes later...
Mom, attempting bicycle exercise for the first time. Hips popping: One. Ow. Two. Three.
Kid, pops in: Hey MOM! Did you know?!??! There is a bad robot in the Transformers?
Mom: OH YEAH? *only* twenty* MORE ... SEC-
Kid: YEAH, he's really bad. DID YOU KNOW THAT HE CAUSED A BIG FIGHT? WITH THE ODDER ROBOTS? AND HE HAD RED EYES? WHY DID HE HAVE RED EYES? AND-
Mom: YEAH that's great. *pop pop pop* Can you go inside now please?
Kid: why?
Mom: I'll see you in a bit.
Kid: But why?
Mom: I'll see you in a bit.
Kid: OK! (door slams)

Ten minutes after that ...
Mom, counting her reps of pull downs: (one, two, three, sweat rolls into eye, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten)
Kid: Hey mom! HOOOOOOW come this show with da REAL people talk about the Dragon Warrior?
Mom: (eleven) wha? (sweat rolls into other eye)
Kid: *sigh* The Dragon Warrior, Mom! You know!!!! Just like Kung Fu Panda! With Tigress, and the snake and the crane and they all thought they were the Dragon Warrior but NUH_UH! It was Panda! PANDA WAS THE DRAGON WARRIOR! so how can a real people be a Dragon Warrior, too? Why Mom? Why?
Mom: *sigh* I don't know.
Kid: But why, mom? tell it! tell it!
Mom: I don't know. (seven? eleven? shit!)
Kid: why mom? why?
Mom: *sigh* can you go please sit down inside? I don't remember where I was.
Kid: Actually mom, you're *supposed* to say 'Now where was I?' (door slams)

/end scene/

I realize some PCPers with kids have completed the PCP before me perhaps without complaint or distraction, but but but but but .... I felt like I was on Jeopardy WHILE attempting the hardest exercises of my life. Now ... I don't know if Patrick our fearless leader has any offspring, but dude, I'd like to see him complete his toughest PCP workout with a mini Alex Trebeck, I'm thinking ages 3 to 6 years old, with question after question after question while he focuses on new, difficult exercises that are literally ripping his muscles. And did I mention the sweat? In the eyes? Just a friendly little thought I had. With the sweat. In my eyes. With my chatty kid. And all her questions. As my muscles ripped.

Day Thirty-Five: Thank You, Sir, May I Have Another?

As I write this, I'm munching on a plate of beautiful beets and tasty zucchini. Happily. When did this happen? And when did "only" 1,400 jump ropes become a welcomed relief? This last week I've been hardcore cravings for Mexican food and for ice cream. Like very specific cravings, the kind I've only had back in the preggers days. And today, after a sudden, urgent visit to the pediatrician for yet again the kid's chronic ear bleeding and subsequent referral to a specialist, some familiar thoughts visited me ... like how this stress and anxiety would be momentarily relieved only by, say, a cake donut or some cheesy nachos at home. I came home, tried to eat lunch but had no appetite. I had my afternoon snack instead. I took a nap. I woke up and did my jump ropes. Again, my shins are on fire. And my appetite returned. And I have my beautiful beets and tasty zukes. And tomorrow will be more of the same. Yes, please.

Day Thirty-Four: Lay Your Hands On Me

Nothing new to report, except this kink in my upper right body continues to torture me. Might go get a massage to see if I can get some relief that way. Other than that, I'm just sticking to the food and exercise plans and trying not to let self-doubt creep in. Tonight I cooked some garden zucchini with basil, olive oil, garlic and oregano, and made another batch of Shelby's jam recipe (I'm forever eternally grateful!), and my exercises, while not easy, went quickly. Keeping the faith ...

Day Thirty-Three: Head Case

Hoorah! I'm finally where I need to be on the PCP. Got the right foods. Got my exercises for Day 32-33 completed. But it was a tough day. My shins are ON FIRE. The last 100 jump ropes of the day were the worst. I felt like crying. My body was not cooperating. I cursed and threw my jumprope. My frustration this evening grew out of when I got another migraine after my a.m. workout. Even though I got done by 10a.m.-ish, it was already very hot and bright here in Colorado. I tried the usual things to prevent my migraine: wore sunglasses, drank lots of water, tried to stay in the shady spots, avoided the midday hours. But my brain sloshed around inside my skull and I was rendered useless the rest of the day. I peeled myself off the cool couch in the dim living room to do my p.m. workout at 730ish. The mosquitoes were all over me even as I sprayed myself with big spray. Ugh. But I finished. I didn't know if I would.

It's scary: today's exercise is the easiest it's going to get from here on out. That's what I thought tonight as I worked out (I prefer to do so silently since so few of my waking hours are quiet). Once upon a time, doing 1,000 jump ropes seemed insane. Leg ups and sit-ups seemed impossible. Yet I'm doing them regularly and increasingly so. Yes, I realize I'm in a mental valley, and it seems sucky and dark and pitiful and painful. Am looking forward to the climb up and outta here. It's the only way to go from here. See you at the peak!

Day Thirty-Two: Catch Up and Muster

I'm sore today. And Patrick sent us an email today about stretching. Serendipity?

I feels as though as there are not enough massage therapists or hot baths to ease my tension in my body tonight. It's my right shoulder blade area and migrates north up my neck into my skull and straight out the front my forehead. Tension so tight it caused a migraine today. Felt sensitive to movement and light. Sick. Oh well. But I got a lot done: my usual Saturday cardio KBing and belated Day 31 PCP exercise, which went surprisingly smooth for how awfully tired I was at the time. I think my migraine could be blamed on the lackluster nutrition of the last few days (totally my fault that I under-ate; the PCP plan is there for a reason!), lack of good sleep and exercising midday in the hot sun. Duh. Never doing that again! Never realized how much learning I would be doing on the PCP...

Tomorrow is Day 32 workout in the a.m. and Day 33 workout in the p.m. Few things lately are as satisfying as crossing off my exercises for the day. Am happy to report I scored beets and cucumbers from the local farmer's market. Got everything else at the grocer's. Cupboards full again. Ahh. Much better.