Category Archives: Gimme a Break!

Plus Sized A-holes

Battle of the Butt, Gimme a Break!, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Peeps!

Before I get started, I have a couple of housekeeping items to tell you about:

First, it pains me to let you know that Google Reader will cease to exist on July 1, 2013. If you currently read my blog through Google Reader, you will be sorely disappointed on July 2nd when you can no longer get to Google Reader. But have no fear, there are tons of replacement services popping up – just type “Google Reader alternative” into any search engine if you don’t believe me. I read many, many blogs via Google Reader so I’ve already done my homework…and I’ve decided on Feedly. It behaves a lot like Google Reader and automatically imported all the blogs I follow, so I’m grateful for that. (I don’t get any kickbacks from them or anything, by the way. I’m just sharing my personal choice with you.)

Next, there’s a rumor going around in the blogosphere that Google Feedburner will also be kicked to the curb this year…and that’s what I use for my email subscribers. If you subscribe to my blog via email, I will eventually be changing services – but this shouldn’t affect you other than perhaps the email looking slightly different. Stay tuned!

Lastly, how’s your 5K training going? Are you ready to join me in the Homemade 5K? Anyone else in the DFW area planning to join me for the Buffalo Boogie 5K in Fort Worth on May 11th? Don’t forget to register!!

Bad Ass Couch copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My pride suffered a setback earlier in the week – and I’ll tell you how, but I refuse to name the establishment where it happened, as it would be too close to giving them free advertising and I’ve resolved never to shop there again. I had to buy clothes for work, as I was wearing the same five outfits to work every week and it was getting a little embarrassing…so I ventured out to the “We Disrespect Fat People” store to spend some of my hard earned money.

An hour later, I stepped up to the counter with one top, two t-shirts, and two pairs of shoes. I’d hoped to get more, but there wasn’t anything else available.

Sales-bitch: Didn’t you want to get another top? They’re buy one, get one half off right now.

Me: I’d love to, but that’s the only top you have in my size.

She looked at me for a minute as if she thought I could grunt real hard and drop a size right there in the store, but when I just stared back at her she tilted her head at me, stuck out her lower lip, and said “Awww, I’m sorry…I just don’t have room for the really big stuff in this store – but we carry this size online.”

I had to fight the urge to throat punch her right there in front of her employee.

Me: Gee, that’s great, but it’s kind of hard to try shit on when you’re shopping on the internet.

255-420323She rang me up without further insult, but her employee sensed the tension and started flipping through the returns rack and presenting me with every hideous top in my size she could find. I wanted to retort “Thanks, but I prefer not to dress like a member of the Golden Girls!”

I was nice. It was hard.

I stood there absolutely pissed off beyond belief and fighting the urge to ask the sales-bitch why a plus sized clothing store that made my size would choose not to carry it in the store. I mean, if you’re going to be like that why don’t you stop carrying the smallest size in the store instead? Size 14’s have a lot more options than Size 30’s. Better yet, just cut back on the size 30 thongs and jeggings and stock some shit I can actually wear.

This store has always been my first choice when I have to go clothes shopping, but this incident is the last straw. The first straw was the time I walked in there looking for workout pants and was told they only carry them in January.  “You know…because of resolutions,” the genius behind the counter tells me.

Yeah…because fat people don’t want to get in shape any other time of year, right? 

In a way, this is motivating to me to just work harder – but when I think of how many sizes I have to drop before I can shop in a regular store, that motivation goes away swiftly. I plan on writing their customer service people a super nice letter about my experience and let them know I’ll never spend another dime in their stores again…which means I’ll spend the rest of my fat days looking like a bloated, polyester covered tropical plant because the only brick & mortar store left is Catherine’s. Great.

Maybe I should learn how to sew. At this point, a bed sheet and a rope belt would be less humiliating than another trip to buy clothes.

Every time I think about it, I just close my eyes and imagine being at my goal weight and kicking that sales-bitch in the shins. Repeatedly.

Fitocracy: Too Much, Too Soon

Battle of the Butt, Get Real!, Gimme a Break!, Tools, , , , , , , , , , ,

Hey y’all!

As I announced on my Facebook fan page recently, I am going inactive on Fitocracy.  Here’s why…

Although a worthwhile and arguably kick-ass idea, Fitocracy appears to be 90% iron pumping triathlon winning fitness ninjas and 10% fitness newbies.  I may revisit my decision in the future, but after careful consideration and a few experiences that made me shake my head…I’m done for now.  To those of you who followed me there and enthusiastically participated in our group challenges, I wholeheartedly apologize if I have disappointed you.  I love you all dearly and I truly appreciate your support as I go through this process of attaining the healthy lifestyle I’m striving for.

Please allow me to offer the following evidence as I state my case…

Exhibit A:  Naked people.  While impressive, keep your naked ass off my computer – especially if I’m cruising for quests and challenges at work.  People do post naked pictures of their expertly, if not overly sculpted physiques.  I’m just not into that.  At all.

Exhibit B:  Fitocrats hitting on Fitocrats.  Ya know…I’d go to the gym if I wanted to see that.  Save the “Let’s get together for a romantic dinner of Muscle Milk” for someplace where the rest of us don’t have to watch.

Exhibit C:  Speaking in tongues.  You know that feeling when you take your car to the mechanic and they check it out, then walk up to you with what looks like a grease covered apple wedger and say “Your squinky squank’s got malnagging boogle parts in it and they’ve all gotta be replaced”?   You just stand there and blink, wondering what the hell they just said, right?  Check out this actual update that showed up on my feed one day:

This has been driving me crazy all day. I read a t-nation post about avoiding Britany Spears syndrome, thick waist from isolating abs and obliques all day every day. He recommends a female, wanting to lose weight, carb cycle with a (c/p/f) 60/30/10, 10/30/60 split with high fat days are lifting days (ish) and the carb day is a rest day (4 day cycle). I have been doing a lean gains recomp for 6 weeks and have had good results. I want to start a cut but now I’m questioning my macros. 

I must have read it 5 times, all the while wondering to myself how many Power Bars a person has to eat to get that jacked up.  I can’t relate.  I don’t want to relate.  I don’t want to live in a world where “Britany Spears Syndrome” is a real affliction…so piss off!

Further, very soon after I became a “Fitocracy Hero” (thanks to all of you joining me there and winning me that extra badge) I was sorry to see several seasoned members posting whining about the fact that so many new people would be joining at the start of the new year…which was made even worse because Dr. Oz had decided to endorse Fitocracy.  There was a lot of snobbery and eye-rolling going on at the prospect of having to deal with new members – something I thought was kind of shitty, for lack of a better term.

I don’t begrudge the Fitocrats their place on the internet and I completely applaud them for doing what they love to do, but I have to be around people I can relate to…and I can’t relate to them.  I’m sorry if you’re disappointed…and I hope you forgive me.  If it helps, I’m mentally wishing each of you to win a million hundred dollars and a lap dance from Hugh Jackman.

I’ll be back by Sunday to tell you all about The Path.  I hope that sounds mysteriously awesome…because it’s supposed to.

Much love…

 

Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do

Battle of the Butt, Gimme a Break!, , , , , , , , , ,

“Well-meaning people” are going to be the death of me…or at least my patience.

Someone I don’t know very well came to me today with the sole purpose of telling me that it’s time for me to have gastric bypass surgery. Please join me as I let out a horrified effing scream.

Before I continue, let me just say that I believe the decision to have any bariatric surgery is an extremely personal one. If you have decided that surgery is the way you want to go, then I support your right to make that decision. After years of waffling back and forth, however, I’ve decided that surgery is not the route for me…and for the last 8 months, I’ve proven that I can do this without it. I’m going to try to choose my words carefully, but please don’t take my message today to mean that I’m trashing bariatric surgery patients…because that’s not what I’m doing.

Back to my….”friend”. Actually, no, it’s not a friend. This is co-worker. And I have never written about a co-worker before, but when you:

A. Are aware that I write a blog about my weight loss efforts and…

B. Voluntarily plop your skinny ass into my workspace to give me your unsolicited opinion about how I should lose this weight and…

C. Are insensitive enough not to see that your comments are unprofessional, unwelcome, and –quite frankly – bat shit cray cray….well, you’re gett’in blogged about whether you like it or not.

Seriously, my heart pounds with the ire of a thousand screaming fat girls every time I think about this conversation.  Let me get through the bulk of this verbal exchange and then maybe you’ll see why I’m nuclear-pissed about it.

So there I am, doing my work and minding my own business, when The Co-Worker stops by for a chat and asks me if I’ve ever considered weight loss surgery before.  (She and I have already had this conversation, by the way…back when I was sold on having lap band surgery. She just doesn’t remember.)  This question would not seem at all strange if I was friends with this person – or maybe if I worked with them every day.  Neither is the case.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s incredibly weird and uncomfortable to be singled out by someone you barely know because you struggle with a problem that’s too big to hide.  Of course, I blog about my big problem…so I’m kind of asking for it, right?  I can go either way on that – but that’s not even really why I’m pissed off.

In answer to her question, I shared some of my story with this person, including the fact that I had consulted a lap band surgeon last August and was committed to doing it until I gave myself an Imaginary Lap Band last December.  Obviously, I’ve given the matter a lot of thought…and still made the decision that weight loss surgery is not for me.

In her misguided, yet passionate attempt to cure me of my obesity problem she explains that she’s recently spoken with someone who has lost 100 pounds with weight loss surgery.

Oh super! So now, little Miss Never-had-to-lose-more-than-20-pounds is grabbing every fat person she sees and telling them about the miracle opportunity that is weight loss surgery.  Thank God I was in the right place at the right time, right?

Excitedly proclaiming how wonderful her friend’s new life is because she is now able to ride her bike everywhere, she asks me “When’s the last time you were on a bike?  10 years ago?”

Okay, now you’re just being a presumptuous bitch.  What did you just say to me???  I start to feel like I’m a prisoner in some sort of horrible infomercial.  I calmly reply, “No…about 2 years, actually.”  Inside, I’m thinking WTF…why did I answer that?  

I should have told her to back off of her ignorant attempt to “help” me, but when someone is insensitive to me in the workplace I am almost brainless in my desire to avoid confrontation. In my professional life, I’ve been “raised” to smile around the a-holes we all run into, find a work-around, and avoid them in the future.  I don’t call people out.  I don’t know how to do it without being a bitch…and it’s not worth the risk of damaging work relationships or losing my job.  So I continued to smile through it, desperately wondering how the hell I was going to sweetly reign this girl in.

She says “Think about how great you’d feel if you just lost 50 pounds!”

Um…okay..

I pointed out the fact that I lost 45 pounds already.  Without surgery.  The reply that came back to me was something like “Yes, but you haven’t lost any more…”  I can’t be exactly sure because by this point, I am officially in shock.  I’m thinking…well, fuck-a-doodle-doo…I didn’t realize I was on this chick’s timetable.

I’d better get crack’in!

As she’s yammering on about the glorious post-weight loss bike riding world, I’m wondering if I can come up with a viable excuse for hurling my stapler at her forehead.  Nope.  I’m coming up blank in the alibi department.  I have to keep playing nice.

Taking in a deep breath and smiling my very best calm-in-the-face-of-ignorance smile, I say “It’s just not for me, really.  I truly believe I can lose this weight on my own.”

Would you like to guess what she had to say to that?  C’mon…guess.

I said “It’s just not for me, really.  I truly believe I can lose this weight on my own.”

And she shakes her head at me and says “No you can’t.”

…

……

………

What the frick?

This is why I am nuclear-pissed. What kind of a person does that?  Who the hell says a thing like that?  Who in their right mind thinks shit like that is helpful in anyway?

Then she starts on about what I’m doing to my heart.  Like I’m wolfing down Twinkies everyday and I’m out of control and she’s staging some sort of partially hydrogenated intervention.  I’m trying to assert the fact that you significantly decrease your risk of heart disease every time you lower your body weight by 10%…but I can’t seem to get the words out of my mouth.  I am so absolutely stunned…flabbergasted…and riled up, there is no rebuttal to be found on the tip of my tongue.

Thankfully she had to go make a phone call or catch a meeting.  Probably for the United Social Morons in Charge of Reeling in the Fatties.  Jesus!  Maybe she owns stock in a bicycle factory for all I know.  I have no idea where this came from.

I know I’ve been a little harsh here and there, so I should say that this person is not a vicious person. I have to believe that this person…somewhere in their poor misguided soul…was trying to be sincere.  I think she really thought she was helping me.  I believe she was so passionate about trying to help me that she had no idea how she was coming off.  She was even shaking her head halfway through my sentences, waiting to prove me wrong somehow.  She wasn’t even listening to what I was saying.

I can even overlook the surgery thing and the bike thing…but there is one thing I can’t overlook: sheer ignorance and absolute insensitivity.  No, I can’t overlook that.  She actually looked me in the face and said “No you can’t.”

You don’t sit down in front of your co-worker, who has finally sorted out her issues with food and decided to attack her problems without surgery…your co-worker who has given up sugar, diet soda, and junk food…your co-worker who lost 45 pounds in 6 months, blogging about it the whole way…leaving a trail of low carb bread crumbs for her fellow fatties to follow…creating an amazing community of fat fighters who support each other on Facebook and on the blog…no, you don’t look at this person – me – and tell her “No, you can’t do this.”

I’m thinking of the character John Locke from the tv show LOST when he yelled from his wheelchair “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”

 

 

Hours and hours later, I still can’t believe the gall some people have.

Well, I’m here to tell ya:  Yes, I can.  In fact, yes, I am doing it.  Yes, I will continue to do it.  And if I’m not doing it according to your schedule, then piss off!

I almost wish that I hadn’t been paralyzed by office politics because I didn’t stand up for myself.  I should have been more outspoken.  I should have found a way to stand up for myself instead of sitting there in shock & awe mode.

What an insane thing for her to do.  I wonder if she goes to marathons and instead of cheering for the people bringing up the rear, she yells “You’re not doing it right!!!”

Maybe there’s a surgery for that too!

I’m appalled. Officially.

I am so thankful for the amazing co-workers I have who do believe in me and what I have been doing.  Every single one of them was relieved beyond words when I told them that I’d decided not to have lap band surgery.  Every single one of them has been amazingly supportive and wonderful.  Never once have they told me that I can’t do this.

For the record, I may not be doing this as fast as others would like – but I’m not doing this for them.  I’m doing this for me.  I believe in myself.  I know I can do this.

God help the person who tries to tell me what I can’t do.

Don’t ever let toxic, insensitive people bring negative to your door.