Monthly Archives: May 2013

Workin’ on My Fitness

For the past three or so years, I’ve been trying to lose weight. But really, aren’t we all? Well maybe everyone except for Skinny E from work. But she’s a runner, so she probably has some crazy fitness related goal like “I want to be able to run 500 miles instead of 400”. Whatever.

Anyway, I used to look like this:

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This was May of 2010 on a trip to Myrtle Beach. I knew when I was on that trip that once I got home something had to change. I was sick of feeling uncomfortable in my body and self conscious all the time. I love clothes and shopping and it was really frustrating to not be satisfied with the way things looked on my body.

So I did a couple things. First, I tried the South Beach diet. I completed the first round, which if memory serves was about two weeks with no carbs. I lost weight. Then I tracked calories using Lose It! and I also did Weight Watchers Online for awhile. I took up yoga and started going on walks. I ended up losing about 20lbs and I’ve maintained that loss for the past couple years.

This is what I looked like in May 2011 (one year later):

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Yes, I DO love this color.

I’ve been lamenting over losing “the last ten pounds” since the last picture was taken. I’ll get on kicks where I’ll track what I’m eating and then someone will invite me out to dinner or a birthday party will come up and I’d un-do all my hard work. It was a perpetual hamster wheel where I was just maintaining. But I wanted more.

Last spring I started running. I  n e v e r thought I would be a runner in a million years. This last December I ran my first 5k. Running continues to be a staple workout and I’m trying to work on improving my speed and distance.

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I am fully aware this is not a good look for me.

A few months ago two of my best friends and I (holler H & G!) sort of stumbled into a major health kick. All three of us track calories, bought heart rate monitors and are working out at least 4-5 days a week. We’ve been sharing successes and failures, cheering each other on when we’re doing great, and motivating each other on days when we just don’t think we have it in us to get off the couch. This support has made a huge difference. Where I was never able to keep myself motivated for more than a week or two at a time, I’ve been consistently eating better and working out for just about two straight months now. I feel fan-fucking-tastic.

I haven’t actually lost much more weight, but I feel stronger and thinner. I’ve gone down a pants size. I feel healthy. And I am loving this feeling. I love my workouts and I HATE having to miss one. I love running now. Lucky for me I live near the ocean and running along the water just does something to my soul.

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And the endorphins! You guys, they’re real! My mood is about 800 times better after a great workout. Hell, it’s still like 500 times better after a shitty workout.

I wish I’d started this sooner. I always thought it would be too hard, or I wouldn’t have time, or living this way wouldn’t be sustainable. Oh, the lies we tell ourselves. It’s not hard, I don’t suffer, and not only is living this way sustainable, I KNOW I’ll never go back to being that unhealthy girl I was before.

I mean, I’m not a psychopath about this. I have dessert. I go out to eat. I just make better choices. I watch portion sizes, I cook at home far more often, and I savor every bite when I do indulge. Like, I went  to Shake Shack last weekend and I  pulled out all the stops. But I also worked out like a mofo last week to prepare. It’s all about balance.

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Worth it.

It doesn’t matter if you want to lose ten pounds or 60 pounds. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to lose any weight at all. Being healthy is just plain good for you. You’ll feel fabulous, I promise.

If you’re on Instagram, my friends and I have started the hashtag #slamminbysummer to keep each other updated (ok, really just to humblebrag like crazy, but still). Feel free to join in on this fitness fun!

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Espresso Editorials

You guys.

So, there’s this free coffee machine at work, right? I never get anything from it because I don’t know how this machine can make so many varieties of coffee. I also don’t know the nutrition information which is worrisome to me.

But yesterday I was sooo tired. My awful upstairs neighbor/landlord has zero respect for my lifestyle as a 27-year-old grandma and I did not sleep well.

So I went to this machine and I picked an espresso macchiato with no sugar. I figured this would be the least calories for the most caffeinated punch.

YOU GUYS ESPRESSO MACCHIATOS ARE THE GREATEST.

My productivity went up about 800%!

By productivity I mean I sent 50 random-ass texts to H and N! But they were hilarious!

For instance, have you ever thought about the phrase “slow your roll”? Have you ever even used this phrase? Is it me and like, two people who use this phrase? Whatever, it’s a good one.

But, like, what are we rolling? Where are rolling it? Are we rolling pie dough? Cookie dough? A PIE MADE OF COOKIES?!

If you’re rolling dough for a pie made of cookies, please do NOT slow, actually. Speed that shit up.

Cookie Pie goes really well with espresso macchiatos, I’ll bet.

 

*Also, thanks H for the title of this post.

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Auntie Mabel

It’s my grandfather’s 80th birthday today. (Happy birthday, Grampy!) On Saturday night the whole family got together to take him out for a celebration dinner. We sat around laughing, eating, and having the type of ridiculous conversations my family is known for.

“How old are you now?” my Great Aunt E asked, apropos of nothing.

“Twenty-seven,” I told her.

“Twenty-seven and unwed,” my delightful mother said pointedly. 

“Oh leave her alone!” Grammy chimed in, always coming to my defense.

“Well even the weird girl that lives on the corner is getting married! We saw her taking pictures with her bridal party outside this afternoon!”

“Katrina, I don’t know if you knew this, but I never married Cousin G’s father. I never got married, it’s fine. In fact, my Auntie Mabel never got married either! She was with someone – Ernie – for YEARS and they never got married or had children.” Great Aunt E helpfully supplied this tidbit of family history.

“Oh great!” I moaned, flopping dramatically over the table, “I’m going to end up just like Auntie Mabel!”

“I think he went by ‘Ernest’, actually,” Grammy chimed in.

Everyone is laughing at my plight like it’s adorable. I threaten to change my name to Mabel.

“Mabel, Mabel, set the table!” my mother chants helpfully.

“Well, what about N?” Great Aunt E asks.

“He’s a dud!” I say, and my uncle guffaws. “He’s my Ernie!”

“Mabel and Ernie, together forever but never giving me a wedding or grandchildren! I am not okay with this!” Mother squawks. It’s always about her.

So apparently women in my family have a history of being un-wed and hanging around with guys who will never commit. Great Great Aunt Mabel, Great Aunt E, and now probably me. 

Fabulous.

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Newport, RI: Spring 2013

The first weekend in April, Mom and I took a weekend trip down to Newport, RI for a little R&R. She got the trip off Rue La La and it was two night in an adorable boutique hotel complete with massages. Perfect. We also figured we would tour some of the Newport Mansions while we were there.

We got there Friday afternoon and spent the day exploring the mansions before we even checked into the hotel.

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And I thought Mom over-decorated.

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This isn’t weird or creepy to have in a house at all.

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Can’t you just picture Lady Mary sitting here having tea?

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Just pretending I am a rich bitch from the 1800s, don’t mind me,

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I loved this kitchen. Upgrade the appliances and I’d take this in a heartbeat. The red painted floors!

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In front of the Marble House.

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Mom, out-posing me, no surprise there.

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If you press this, Bates shows up.

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They were self guided audio tours. But this is a pretty accurate representation of what I looked like circa 1994. Discman in my pocket.

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The view from the roof of The Elms.

We’ve been through most of the mansions before, and I do recommend touring a few of them. Two or three will do it, otherwise it just gets to be overkill and the grand houses stop being so awe-inspiring and suddenly you’re calling all the 16th century china “tacky”. The Breakers has always been my favorite, but we skipped it this time because I’ve done it about a million times.

The best thing we did this time was the servant’s tour of The Elms. So fascinating! It was JUST like Downton Abbey! The servants all lived in rooms at the top of the house and it was a long hallway with rooms off it just like in Downton. The servants quarters were also nicer than my apartment, so there’s that.

We had dinner downtown and then finally checked into the hotel, where we were greeted with champagne and chocolates and we immediately put on the hotel robes and hopped into bed. Because that is what one does in these situations, always.

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This is how my life should always look.

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This is actually how her life DOES always look, because she has a habit of snacking in bed.

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The next morning we had breakfast at the hotel and did another mansion tour (we bought the five tour package, which was too many, we ended up only doing four).

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After that we wandered around shopping and eating. I got a new Alex & Ani bracelet (a gold phoenix, I love him) and we both bought Newport sweatshirts because it was absolutely frigid. We had our massages that night which were blissful and lovely and then we spent the rest of the evening just relaxing.

The, the next morning, I had the most amazing bananas foster french toast that has ever existed:

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After that we went home. And now I really want that french toast.

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Conversations with N: Past & Present

[Background: We were reminiscing about our teenage selves and the ridiculous crap we used to do. I will not go into specifics here because it literally makes me cringe with embarrassment to remember what asses we were. Teenagers are the worst.]

K: My 27-year-old self would probably be so annoyed with the teenage me if I ever went back in time and met her.

N: My 27-year-old self is annoyed by your 27-year-old self all the time. Maybe by the time you hit 30 you’ll be cool.

K: [hits N on the arm and screeches that he’s a jerk]

N: But I am such a funny jerk!

Now that I’m typing this I’m wondering what my 17-year-old self would think of the 27-year-old me. I wonder if she’d be disappointed? She probably would be, since I know my teenage self thought 27 was so OLD and SURELY I’d have it all figured out by now. Life never does turn out quite the way we expect it to.

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The Beard, Or How I Ruined My Relationship With A Seemingly Innocent Comment

This past fall I was not-so-patiently waiting for an engagement ring from my beloved N. We’d been together for eleven years. E-L-E-V-E-N Y-E-A-R-S. I do not think I was being presumptuous in thinking I maybe deserved a little more commitment after all that.

One perfectly normal day in early October I was sitting on the couch with N, lazily watching TV and stroking his puffy beard.

I was never very fond of the puffy beard. he’s had it for years and I have been mourning the loss of his naked, youthful face ever since. But he was insistent and wouldn’t get rid of it.

So on this particular, normal, run of the mill October day as I was stroking it and letting my mind wander, my mouth decided to verbalize what was happening in my brain.

I hate when this happens.

I said “N, for our wedding you cannot have this beard. I just decided.”

He said nothing.

I said, “We are having a wedding, right?”

All was quiet.

“N? Hello?”

“I don’t think I want to get married,” he said.

Two weeks later he moved out.

This past Wednesday, when he came over to hang out and watch the first Bruins playoff game, I opened the door and didn’t recognize him. The beard was gone.

“I can’t grow a proper playoff beard if I already have one to begin with. I had to start fresh.” Well, duh.

He looked SO YOUNG. His face was baby-butt smooth and faintly paler where the beard had been. I giggled like a school girl. He looked so weird.

After staring at his bare face all night I came to the conclusion that I liked him better WITH the beard.

Go figure.

If only I’d kept my mouth shut on that perfect fine day back in October, maybe things would have turned out differently. (Unlikely, but still, one has to wonder).

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Coversations with H: Blondes

K: Would I look weird with blonde hair?

H: I don’t think you’d look WEIRD but the maintenance would be a bitch.

K: I wouldn’t do it I’m just real curious how I’d look. Maybe I should try on a wig.

H: Honestly you’d probably look washed out. Like Carlisle.

K: Yeah that’s what I was thinking.

K: I know exactly what you’re talking about when you say “like Carlisle” which is both awesome and concerning.

 

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