REASON #4

Let's face it - Cheetara was a badass.  Wonderwoman and She-ra were also personal heroes, but there was just something indescribably cool about Cheetara.  I have had an extremely  awkward relationship with my body since childhood.  My utter lack of coordination made gym class less than fun.  My parents were kind enough to teach me to play basketball, which I liked and was (miraculously) reasonably good at, but I dropped it once I entered adulthood.  I really don't know where my aversion to exercise comes from.  It's very mysterious, and annoying.  As I have mentioned before, I  did stagger and limp my way through a marathon  for charity a few years ago.  Suffice it to  say,  I finished, but I was no Cheetara.  And my mother had to convince them to keep the finish line open for me, but that's another story.

I would love to be a real  runner.   Oh, to be confident, fast, and easy in my body.  Dedicated.  Every runner I meet always seems to be so dedicated to it.  It's cool.  I would love to have that athletic nonchalance that they just  throw around. "What are you doing this weekend?" "Oh, just a half marathon in the Hamptons.  It's no big deal.  I'm training for the Boston Marathon."  Wow.  There are multiple things to be jealous of in that sentence. A) Going to the Hamptons B) Being in amazing shape C) Being in such amazing shape that you're a fast enough runner to consider qualifying for Boston.  The mind reels!

Anyway, I've been making a little progress on the fitness front.  I joined the YMCA, and I've been doing a bit of running (ok, fast walking) on my treadmill.  I'm inspired by the whole couch to 5k program.  You can read about it here:
http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml
 I think it will take a about twice as long as they want it to, but slow and steady winds the race, right?  Just ask the turtle.

REASON #3...

         Ok - I'm not completely insane.  I don't think I'm ever really going to run into my high school crush, Jake Ryan.  I mean - what are the odds, right?  He's not even acting anymore.  According to the expert on all things, Wikipedia, Jake Ryan ...I mean, Michael Schoeffling, quit acting and opened up a woodworking shop in Pennsylvania.  Not that I know the address, or anything (insert awkward laugh).  Anyway, the possibility of running into your actual high school crush, the one that probably still lives in your home town, is a real motivator for anyone to look good.  I have an actual crush that I still see once in a while.  It would be a very "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion" kind of a  moment if I could look particularly amazing for one of these encounters.   I will still be struck dumb and sound like an idiot, which is just the way it is whenever I see this guy, but at least I'll look good.

REASON # 2....

How amazing is this poster?  It's for the film  "For Your Eyes Only," circa 1981.   What is up with the lovingly rendered deep sea diving suit with claws?  And what about the photo-realistic car explosion?  The Bond girl's's butt that is so toned, it makes me upset inside.  What cut of bathing suit is that?  French Bikini-meets- Robin-Byrd-public-access show?  Or perhaps the poor soul just put her bathing suit on backwards. Regardless, this reason to get fit  is very close to my heart.  Skinny leg-ed lads and lasses don't know the pain (literally) of thighs rubbing together.  Pants, shorts - any garment with legs work fine.  Skirts are another story.  I won't go into detail here but let's just say, if a pair of pantyhose isn't involved, skirts and dresses are my Kryptonite.  Do I need legs quite this skinny and muscular to solve the issue?  I hope not.  Having legs like these would be,  if not genetically impossible, genetically improbable for me.

So here's hoping for fit thighs that don't fit quite so snugly together.  And for a crossbow.

And so it continues...

After the brave flash of lunacy that motivated the creation of this blog, the holidays happened.  I ate and made merry, and I spent next to no time thinking about my weight.  Hence  - no weight loss news to report.    However, I do have some updates now.  2 weeks ago, I rejoined Weigh tWatchers.  They're on a whole new points calculating system.  For those weight watchers neophytes out there, points are a more complicated way of calorie counting.  They factor in protein, fat, fiber, and calorie content to arrive at a point value.  You only get a certain amount of points a day.  Anyway, new nutritional science has lead to a major revamp.  Apparently, this new points plus program has been tested in Europe for the last eight months with off the chart results.  To make a long story shot, I like the changes.

Anyway - in my first week I lost ....drum roll please... 2.8 lbs.  Not a huge loss, but significant for me. This felt like a triumph after more than a year of steady gaining.  Week 2 rolls around.  I weigh in and "Gasp!"  I've regained 2.4 lbs.  Talk about a short lived success.  No big deal though.  I blame myself.  I was a little loose with tracking and I ate out the 2 nights leading up to weigh in.  Indian, then Thai.  I tired to be accurate with the point values and portions, but I'm not an eyeballing expert and I'm sure I underestimated.

Lesson learned: Don't eat out before weigh in,  crazy pants.  Splurge on the weekend or earlier in the week.

And hey - at least I lost 4 ounces.  Please excuse me while I go report that to all the major news agencies.

It all started at my sister's birthday party....

The setting was innocent enough.  A surprise party for my sister.  It was at a bar uptown on a cold December night.  It was a warming mixture of good people, good booze, and good fun.    Miracle of miracles - my sister was actually surprised!  My other sister and my mother and I were delighted with the success of our covert operations.  All was well.  Until...the comment.

I was chatting with a good friend of my sister and my boyfriend.  We were talking about plastic surgery procedures in Hollywood.  My (lovely) boyfriend was extolling the virtues of natural beauty.  As various celebrity names were mentioned, my sister's friend said to me: "You look like Demi Moore."

An amazing compliment, right?  Who doesn't want to look like Demi Moore?  The woman is incredibly beautiful and virtually ageless.  I plan on watching her in a double feature of "St. Elmos Fire"and "One Crazy Summer"  at least 22 more times before I die.  She's G.I. Jane for God's sake!  Here's a picture of this movie vixen in case you've been unconscious for the last 30 years:

So it was basically one of the best compliments in the history of compliments.  Was.  My sister's friend continued to say,  very matter of fact-ly: "A chubby Demi Moore." What?!!!  Her statement immediately plummeted from compliment status to grey area, insult territory. I've  thought about it, and I don't think she meant it as an insult.  She quickly said  "I'm a curvy girl too."  Like that made it better...hmmm.  Well, maybe.  At least she was implying we were in the same boat.  The same chubby boat.

Regardless, the whole thing blew my mind.  To give you a brief history of me, I am overweight.  I know this.  I have lost, and regained 17 - 23 pounds on 4 different occasions in my adult life.  I'm 34.  I have gone through  occasional, ill advised bouts of intense exercise.   Some examples might include: Hip Hop Dancing, Bikram Yoga, Trampoline class,  deciding to train for a marathon in four months when I had no previous running experience.  I jogged  (and staggered through) said marathon in Burlington Vermont for charity.  I never ran again.    I have a sit on my ass kind of a job and I seem to have a deep aversion to exercise.  I am 5'7 and some change.  I need to lose 60 pounds.

60 pounds.  That's a lot, right?  And losing that much will not make me Demi-Moore-thin.  Even though this blog is somewhat anonymous, I'm too horrified too disclose my actual weight.  Just trust me - losing 60 pounds is not extreme at all for me.   So anyway, I should have known that I was chubby, right?  Wrong.  I just always think of my body as average.  This comment at the party forced me to face the fact that the world at large sees me as chubby.  There was a disconnect between what I see in the mirror and what the world was seeing.

So, to make a long story short, I want to lose the weight.  For reals.  No excuses.  If anybody's curious, I'm going to do it with a combination of Weightwatchers and exercise.  On the Wii.  Maybe not as serious a means of cardio ass-kicking but hey,  at least I'll do it.  The little graphic Wii Balance board makes me laugh.  And, mysteriously, the Wii seems to know when I sneeze. It says "Bless you." Brilliant.

I have also decided to tape  a campaign of "50 Reasons to Get Fit" on the inside of my medicine cabinet each week to inspire me.  Here's number 1:

This is Milla Jovovich from the Resident Evil 3 poster.  I widened the super attractive Milla's hips because even in my fantasies, there's no way I'll be as slim as her. I also photoshopped my face into it.  My face looks a little better than normal here.  I decided not to include A) The bags under my eyes and B) My full (jerks would say "double") chin.

So there you have it.  Week one of inspiration.  Let's see if I get off my butt and lose anything.

I'm so glad I'm starting this right before the holidays.  

By the way, I'm not particularly Demi Morre-ish looking, chubby or otherwise.  I think it's just the fact that I have dark hair and green eyes.  Whatever.  

I love zombies.