So much of the fitness and health writing out there is so dry you practically have to hydrate after you read it. I think it’s time we injected some humor into the genre.
Running a business takes up a shit-ton of time. It’s a little like being in school: there’s always something you OUGHT to be doing, and at any given moment I’m usually not doing most of those things, because I’m training, and when I’m not training I’m sucking up to my kid so she will still speak to me when she’s a teenager and stop saying things like, “the gym is more important to you than I am.” And sometimes I’m doing a workout myself. And occasionally I’m pooping, or sleeping. Once in a while I speak to someone socially. Not as often as I poop, but you know, it’s equally as gratifying sometimes.
Further proof there is no dignity in the BOSU.
I guess it takes getting sick and being stuck at home with a stupid fever to get me to write again. I have really, really wanted to, been very busy trying to manage a bizness, but I have missed it like fuck, but I do not think anyone cares about that so I’ll shut it.
I do not enjoy being sick. I don’t really imagine other people love it, but I get blue because I feel like the whole world is happening outside and I’m stuck inside, being sick makes me feel invisible. Also tends to ramp up the ever-present self-pity, a conclusion you may have already leapt to if you are shmart. If I’m feeling invisible, I guess I look for attention, and don’t matter if it’s positive or negative. Fact: blogging is probably only a tiny step above flashing your tits at the camera guy in the scale of attention-seeking behaviors.
I get all these women’s health magazines in the mail for free, maybe because of having a gym. Perhaps the magazine people assume we have a gym outfitted with rows of cardio equipment and that we might place these magazines on racks for people to read while they stairmaster or whatever, not realizing that in fact most people who work out here are lucky if their vision isn’t too blurry to make out the faces of loved ones. That’s me being creepily macho about how hard our workouts are, also known as “dick-swinging.” I know, how lame, and not even accurate.
Anyway, these magazines have sexy exciting titles like “Healthier Health For You” and “Fitness Woman” and “No We Are Totally Into Health” or some such shit, and it is my conclusion from reading them that there is at most one actually useful piece of information per issue, if that, and it is usually a line in the little blurb-y section, and it’s something like, “Blueberries have more vitamin C than oranges” and that’s not a real one, but you get the idea. So these magazines could be, in my opinion, condensed to exactly one sentence, which would leave room for even more of those copious tampon and yogurt ads, Read the rest of this entry »
Sometimes people I train have the nerve to move and have to attend other bootcamps, or they possibly saw other trainers before they met their one true love (that would be me… no, stop laughing, occasionally people do like training with me, fuckers) and I am the kind of person who believes people should sow their wild training oats. If they have to work out elsewhere, FINE, I only ask neutral questions like, “what did that other little slut trainer do with you, hmmm? Did your wussy other trainer make you do this though? I didn’t think so. Don’t you wish your other trainer was a freak like me, don’t you?” Anyhow, because I am clearly so needy, people will send me stuff about these other trainers like their newsletters and shit like that so I can mock it. In this way, it has come to my attention that one trend in trainers out there is many of them believe they are imbuing some spiritual guidance in addition to sore muscles, and once they’ve gotten people to sign on for some fitness they also present themselves as mentors or life coaches. Read the rest of this entry »
Hello darlings. Let me tell you a little story, and in it we will see how even a lifetime of rebelliously loving food and being fundamentally irritated with the disordered way we think we are supposed to eat sometimes doesnt’t even protect me from moments of being something other than myself. If you followed that sentence, you get a free t-shirt, just as soon as I learn to screen-print “Fucking fuck fuckery” shirts in my bathtub.
A long ass time ago, I went to see this great nutritionist who told me many wise things, and among them was this gem: Diets are often crap-fuckery (um, those are my words) because they fail to ask the fundamental question, “How many calories are you currently eating?” Read the rest of this entry »
Kill me now!
Yeas, been gone. Know what I’ve been doing instead of writing? Mostly working, pretty long days, because I like what I do and because it’s my job and as a small business owner who wants to be a big-ass business owner (thus far only succeeding in the big ass part) I guess that’s what I do. Also: very compulsive person.
You’ll have to excuse me for going on about myself here, but nobody is reading it anyway and boy, it’s been a while and I like hearing myself talk. I want you to know I started missing writing like craaaazy, missing it like I would miss running or working out if I couldn’t do that, HA HA HA, oh that’s a good one right now, I’ll get to it. Read the rest of this entry »
This is just a good song about motivation, and a GOOD song, rrrowwww.
So I have a few posts half-written, which matches my half-assed workouts perfectly, so there you go. Did you know January is a very busy month for trainers? Everyone and their cousin wants to get in shape, though the distance between desire and action is long for many people. In my case, it’s usually not long enough for things that are bad for me, and pretty much miles when it comes to working out, so I’ll tell you about that because, FASCINATING. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who experiences flagging motivation. (I think you can also take a small blue pill for it.) And thus, point number one: Read the rest of this entry »
I’m going to slink in like I’ve been here the whole time. If someone asks why I haven’t posted, I’m going to toss my head and drop something about “coma” or “kidnapped by religious-political group and made to do bank heists” and leave it at that.
Nah, 2009 was kind of a thbbbthh year in some ways, culminating in a thbbbthhh couple months during which I wrote NOTHING except cryptic emails and to-do lists with item #1: “Go to store and buy a new life”.
But Whatever. It’s 2010, I’m getting back to feeling like myself slowly but surely, and this part is just the la-la-la shit for myself. I make no posting promises, but I’m here now baby, and all we have is now. Hey, I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly awaaaay…
So because running is no longer effective for curbing my incessant mind-spinning and head-fucking, I’ve decided to outsource all that to my sister. Read the rest of this entry »
Yeah yeah, I haven’t written anything in a while. The longest stretch ever, actually. See, I quit fitness and moved to the mountains and found my higher self, and her name is Rawunda-Spirit-Wolfchild and she doesn’t need to do athletic things, because she is too evolved to bother with her corporeal self.
Or I’ve just been busy and kind of overwhelmed for reasons far too boring to detail here, and writing for me is like exercise—once you get out of the habit, it is a bitch to get back into it. Hey, I have been working out though! As if anyone cares but me. I kind of wonder if I killed this blog for good with my being gone. Let’s find out. Oh, and I even wrote this post a while ago but never published it because I didn’t like it that particularly, but now I’m too out of practice to care so much, and I figure everyone has gone home anyway, so what the hell. Read the rest of this entry »
The second-creepiest picture ever.So I am DONE with my required 30 days of workin out, and here’s the number one thing I got from it: It didn’t feel that different from my usual routine, perhaps because I both got sick near the end and had to take a li’l time off, and because some of my workouts were less athletic and more like standing around with a dumbbell in hand. So you could say I probably have a relatively active life in general anyway, or that I have a way of building in rest when needed by phoning in workouts, or that if there’s a loophole (like a 30 minute minimum), I’m already halfway through it, and probably need near-constant surveillance to deliver an acceptable showing. Say what you will, your words can’t hurt me, man.
Before I go on about me, which kind of bores even me sometimes, I did read something (yay for me) all by myself with no one helping me with the big words Read the rest of this entry »
