The Prick Moved and Mama Grooved!

I was fit to be tied if that prick didn’t drop. Lucky for Me I’m at 173!

Ok –  Today was the day – I had to step on this Mother Fucker and see if the prick moved a lick.  And, by prick I mean the little red needle on my ancient dial a scale. Last week I was at -18 fuckers.  A few weeks back I had actually hit -20 fuckers.  But I quickly got jerked back up on the yo yo from hell  and landed at minus 18.  And there I lie deflated but not defeated.

Well my little pretties I’m elated to tell you that I am once again down 2 and am sitting soundly at 173.  Two of those stubborn ass hanger oners gone!  I’m hoping they have flown the coo coo’s nest once and for all!

Hey, let’s face it, this losing shit is hard at any age.  But when your metabolism takes a flying fuck at a rolling donut you my friend have got to – first squish the donut and second figure out how to rev up your engine once again and keep going.  You must reevaluate what you are doing and what you are not doing.  You must find away to move forward or take it from me….Your ass is going to grow and blow right back up that yo-yo.  You came too far and worked too hard for that (like my self talkin’ here). My plan of attack to …dare I say it….to become a runner.

I mean come on – have you ever seen an overweight real runner.  I haven’t and trust me I study those mother fuckers.  I study their long lean muscles.  I study their non jiggly arms.  Their pace. Their stride.

Ok – pay no attention to the New Jersey House Wife hair (maybe Loretta Lynn). Here I am Friday night. Down 20 and feeling Dynamite! (Ok, bottle rockety, maybe not quite dynamite)

And I think to myself….”Bitch” – in an admiring kind of way!

Well – did I mention- surely you have heard by now that I, my friends am now a  runner.  Oh I didn’t – Yea, me – I’m a runner.  I’m a runner like say, Mother Teresa is a rapper.  It doesn’t come natural and I’m sure I don’t look real cool doing it but damn it I’m dropping a rhyme one step at a time.

This is my third week.  I am walking 6mins running 4mins repeat for 30 mins.  Now mind you my 9 year old son (Lucifer) was simply amazed that my “run” portion was actually not my “walk”.  The little bastard laughed, then got off his bike to imitate just how slow I was.  After I tripped his ass I put back in my buds and went on about my not so super sonic stride.

The point is I’m doing it!  And when I’m running with my chest out, my tunes in, listening to my breathing…I’m really really happy!  Wait did I just fucking say that?  Why, yes – I did!  I know it’s only 4 minutes at a time and Lord knows the tiny distance I cover in those four minutes is just that…tiny!  But I’m doing it!  And Lord Have Mercy – Honey Child if I’m doing it then so can you!

Remember 2 weeks ago – I hated every step! HATTTTEEEEDD!  Now I look forward to the 30 mins alone with my tunes and I love the way I feel when It’s done.

I am sure that it is that running that has reved up my stalled engine and allowed me to kick those two little beboppin’ assholes to the curb (#19 and #20)! And let me tell you…2 pounds sounds like small beans.  And yes – if I hadn’t already lost 18 – I would think the same.  But I could not, would not shake those bastards.  It was like trying to shake my husband at a social function at the kids school. It just wasn’t happening.

I look forward to seeing where this whole running thing takes me.  Could I really become an all out true blue runner.  The thought of it makes me laugh out loud.  Come on!  This is me were talking about. But,  I know me and there is one thing I do love….Surprises!

With Love, Laughter & Good Health Ever After!  -Suzi