How many calories do you burn wallowing in your own self-pity?

Though you would think laying in bed from 6 pm until 8 am tossing and turning, reeling from internal strife, fighting to sleep, unable to stop your brain from spinning would burn innumerable amounts of calories, the fact is...it won't. The chances of it doing you any good at all are about as good as my chances of winning the title of Miss. Fitness USA. Last night I went downstairs to eat dinner after my last entry and made the executive decision to not eat. I wasn't hungry. Instead, I came upstairs and crawled in bed. I wallowed. I stewed. I came up with all these things I should say, but likely won't. I came up with questions and made up my own answers. I toggled ever so efficiently between angry and sad. For those that think I'm a hot mess in need of medication, I'm not. This is just what I do when my life is in limbo. I think I've mentioned this before, but fat girls can't limbo. I like definitive answers. I like knowing where I stand and what's around the corner. I like having some sense of control. Yesterday I felt like I had none. Toss in the fact that the height of the limbo bar has been set by someone I care a lot about and this is the result.

He and I were supposed to talk last night; we didn't. After a few texts about how we WOULD be talking last night, I got one that said we wouldn't be. It was the last night that his cousin would be staying there and they were "talking about life." What I wanted to say in response was, "Don't call me for a while," or "Have another beer and fuck off." Instead, a simple "Goodnight, Insertnamehere." His name is nearly always replaced with a term of endearment when I address him, so, the simple fact that I used his name probably got my point across without me lowering myself to levels I'd regret. I figured I'd wait until this morning and see how I felt. This is progress for me. And what was the result? I took back some of the control. I determined what height the bar would be set today. I gave his indecisive "time out" the middle finger and told him that I didn't want to talk to him the rest of today, or tomorrow for that matter. I wasn't going to sit here waiting for texts or calls that likely wouldn't happen. He has company in town tonight so I doubt it's going to affect him all that much, but it made all the difference for me. He said everyone (company, cousin, daughter) would be gone tomorrow night and things would be more settled. That we could talk. He sounded sad. I hung up.

I started cleaning, frantically, if I may say so. Dust bunnies called for backup as I tore through my room on a mission. Cardio, no? I turned on the Wii and fired up My Fitness Trainer to put some time in with Maya. I almost threw a dumbbell at the screen as she nagged me about missing my sessions lately. Look, bitch, I've been checking in daily getting workout credit for what I've been doing at the gym. Just because I haven't wanted to workout with YOUR ass, does NOT a slacker make. I did a 30 minute workout with her that focused on flexibility. Now I'm all stretched out and ready for some limbo. Anyone?

Warriors, and Monkeys, and Dogs...Oh my!

There are a lot of experiences that I have not had, places I have not gone, and things I have not done. Some of them are because I'm too poor, too scared, too shy, too inept; you get the point. Often times, though, it's simply because I'm too fat. Take wearing a size 2 dress, posing for Playboy (giggle), or using my Wii Fit. I have never done these things because I am, legitimately, too fat. There are things, however, that I haven't done because I only THINK I'm too fat. Yoga is one of those things.

Until now.

I was working out yesterday with, you guessed it, Maya. She had me focusing on flexibility and towards the end I saw that the upcoming move was called a Triangle Pose. I don't know a lot about Yoga. What I do know is that if a phrase has the word pose in it and no one around has a camera, you're likely talking about Yoga. I've always wanted to do yoga, but have never done much more than a Child's Pose because I'm confident that there isn't a lot of it I could do at my size. I grimaced as I saw what Maya had in store for me, but went along with it. OMG! L.O.V.E.D.'d it. I was all stretched out and when we were done with the move I was so relaxed. We did something with the word Pretzel in it and a Child's Pose and...I did Yoga. But wait, there's more.

I crawled into bed and decided I needed to see what else Maya offered for a Yoga rookie. I got back out of bed and turned her on (naughty; stop it). I chose a Yoga for the workout instead of Upper Body or Cardio so that I would get all Yoga, all the time. Ya'll? I did 15 minutes of straight Yoga. Warrior Poses, Downward Facing Dogs, Triangle Poses, Upward Facing Dogs, Monkey Stretches, Half Moon Poses (sorta)...me. Yoga. I know.

I can't say that I was style and grace. I can't say that I even did them correctly, but I can say that I tried and enjoyed it. The best part of working out with Maya? No one is watching. No one is judging. No one is yelling at me or making me feel inadequate because I can't do something. In my dojo? I am Yoga Master. Namaste, Bitches!

Bedtime stories didn't used to be this scary

Last night before bed I spent about 15 minutes with Maya. Her version of bedtime stories involve squats and lunges, bicep curls and tricep presses, crunches and some odd little thing where I curl into a ball and roll back and forth. I'm supposed to bring my knees to my chest for this. I haven't brought my knees successfully to my chest since I was a fetus, I assure you. I think I prefer my bedtime stories have ghosts, dragons, gory details of dismemberment, and the like. They'd provide far less nightmare potential for me I think.

This morning I decided to see what she serves for breakfast. Planks. The bitch had me doing planks. I guess she IS a real trainer because they ALL make you do planks! Where's the originality in that I ask? As you're working out with Maya she occasionally asks you how that last little bit of torture treated you. You can choose from "No sweat," "I was working hard," and "I couldn't keep up." This allows her to decide how she wants to ream you the next time you hang out. She'll only dial it up a notch if you say no sweat, people. I'm just sayin'! She is kind enough to let you have a rest period between certain things. Just long enough for her to adjust her ponytail, her shoe, her spandex, whatever might be riding up into her nether regions. And before you start another part of the workout, she'll ask you to wait while she "finds the beat." My new BFF for sure!

After dinner I went for a walk. I needed to clear my head and see if it filled back up with clarity. It didn't. I've been so disconnected the last week. So indifferent to everything. I've been seeing someone lately and I've even pulled away from that (for various reasons I'll not get into). School starts tomorrow and I don't want to go. Since when haven't I been jacked up on school? Even when I was drowning in it I was still loving it. Right now, I'm not. Maybe I'm depressed. Maybe I'm just tired. My life is still all kerfucked and I'm getting quite fed up with it all.

Before I sat down to write this I popped in my new Jillian Michaels' Fitness Ultimatum 2009 game for the Wii. I did about 15 minutes with it. I'm not all that impressed with it yet, but maybe I'm not doing it right. Maya works me out much harder than Jillian so far. My Wii Balance Board can be used on that one, maybe that'll make the difference. Right now it's just a lot of running in place. The rowing and the monkey bars seems good, but F@#$ it all if I can figure out the grenade toss. I'll have to play with it some more and see what happens. As you work out you gain access to new training tips and things.

For those of you trying to tally my activity for today. I got in about an hour. Considering how sedentary I've been for the last, eesh, six months...this is huge. Tomorrow starts another 11ish weeks of hell. Let's see if I can't bring my A game this time, shall we?

Wii are fat

and by Wii I mean me as determined by my Wii. I'm embarrassed to admit that my left shoulder is sore from an hour of bowling that I did a couple days ago. Granted, I don't just click and flick to knock those pins down, I actually DO go through the actual motion of bowling, but that is tragic. I turned on my Wii Fit a couple weeks ago just to see what would happen and, naturally, one of the first things it wants to do is weigh me. I got on it just for the hell of it and quickly regretted it. Nothing like a little animated balance board telling you that you exceed its weight limits. Today I got a game called My Fitness Coach. It doesn't require the balance board so I thought it was a good idea. Another notion I should have reconsidered.

I would like to tell you more about it at this point, but I haven't really done it yet because setting up my profile was about all I could handle today. I haven't really worked out to any significant degree since this summer. My nephew was in my room with me when we turned it on. A hot, animated chick with a perfect body proceeds to explain that I'll need to set up the aforementioned profile. This, as the paperwork explains, is Maya...my new personal trainer. Personally, I wish that she was a he that stood about 6'4", with biceps the size of small children and abs I could do laundry on, but who am I to complain? Maya will do just fine. She politely asked for my particulars. When it got to my weight I made my nephew take Lola downstairs. I didn't want to scar the child. He came back up and it was asking for various measurements. I kicked him out again as I took them. When he came back in I was doing the resting heart rate. Simple enough. What's that? You want me to do jumping jacks now? Ok...how hard can that be? For two minutes? No problem, Maya. I'm your girl. WTF? When did jumping jacks get so hard? Did I mention that I had just taken my bra off when I did the measurements? Ouch.

After I nursed my black eye I had to do squats, modified pushups, crunches, and test my flexibility. Fair enough. Then Maya told me that I'm outside the healthy weight range. Money well spent, my friends. I'd been living the lie up until this point. She wanted to know my goal weight and if my objective was Weight Loss, Upper Body Strength, Lower Body Strength, Core Body Strength, Cardio Fitness, or Flexibility. After the revelation that I was outside the healthy weight range I signed up for weight loss, natch. Now Maya wanted me to set up a commitment schedule. Ya know, when will I work out and how long? Silly girl. She asked what equipment I have at home so she knows how to properly torture me.

As far as I can tell I get to choose music, workout location, and she'll ask me my mood before we work out. I get to choose from "Nothing can stop me," "Not too bad," and "You're lucky I'm here!" I think I'd rather have one that says "You're lucky I don't cut you, you skinny little animated bitch." Should be fun, no?