One rather boring Monday, I woke up. But this time around, I woke up feeling rested- which never, EVER happens; not since my teen years at least.
My regular Mondays consist of convincing myself for 10+ minutes that I do indeed have to go to work accompanied by the feelings of utter exhaustion and misery.
This time around though I woke up and felt good. To get myself through the day I usually take half a caffeine pill (equal to half a cup of coffee) and then for the rest of the day I drink soda (reserve judgement, I know it’s not healthy).
But that boring Monday morning I was glistening. A wild thought popped into my head- what if I go all day without caffeine?
So I did!
I felt powerful. Almost couldn’t believe I lasted through a Monday without any magic caffeinated pill to wake me up.
Then Tuesday came. I woke up miserable. The blissful sleep of the previous night was gone. But I didn’t want to go back to caffeine. I lasted a whole day, could I last another one?
So I did! Around noon, however, a throbbing headache started creeping up on me. I drank a lot of water but that’s not what my body wanted. More headache! I got home cranky and ready to punch somebody. I decided to go to bed early to sleep the pain away.
I don’t know why I decided to keep it up but that’s how I do things in life in general. Once I start I want to stick to it even if it doesn’t make sense. Was my body telling me to get some caffeine in it otherwise it will shut down? Yes. But was I semi proud that I made it two days without being addicted to caffeine and its magical effects it does on my preceptors? Yes!
It’s been a month now since I’ve had caffeine. I tell ya, I’ve heard many stories about how you allegedly feel so much better when you stop drinking sodas and coffee. One of my past co-workers insisted she was short of being reborn and rejuvenated and it actually showed in her radiant look. Me personally, I still feel lousy every day. I look sickly and have about as much energy as my 12- year old cat. The only difference is I fall asleep faster because I am beat by the end of the day.
- How about you guys? Did you have better results since kicking caffeine to the curb?
Buffalo, NY- Perpetually hiding a pot belly in baggy clothes sometimes becomes so annoying that some people actually decide to do something about it. Brittany Quinn, 26, decided to get more toned after she got fed up with her jiggly body. “She started with the simple couch to 5K runs and things like that,” Leah, 25 told us about Brittany. They’ve been friends since high school. “I supported her and even did the runs with her. I knew she hated her body for years and doing something about it was definitely good.”
But Brittany Quinn didn’t stop there. She started complaining about not being toned enough. “She really changed her diet to nothing but protein shakes and lean meat and all that other super healthy stuff,” Whitney, Brittany’s best friend, noticed. “And she started to life weights. She ended up going to the gym for two hours each day.” Her Facebook was drowning with quotes like “I just want someone that will lift, cuddle and drink protein shakes with me” and had tons of pictures of her lifting heavy. “Within a few months you could notice a huge change in her body. The fat was disappearing and she was getting really toned. But she started cancelling on our movie nights because she didn’t want to be tempted by pop-corn and chips, and she spent Friday nights at the gym instead of going out and having fun.”
Within a year, she entered a body-building contest and won third place. “Of course we all went to see her to support her,” Whitney continued, “but we are all secretly hoping the old Brittany would come back. Like, she doesn’t have to be as fat as she was but we feel like she went from one extreme to another- from being really fat to really fit. Can’t she just be happy with a normal body and still go to the gym, eat healthy and still spend some time with her friends?”
Brittany was not available to comment because she was too busy lifting or die trying (to life it).
Inspired by The Onion
Running doesn’t keep me happy. I don’t care if they have cute running clothes to make me look like I am dying less when I run. Nor do I care for the positive brain effects and endorphin that release as I run. Ok? I couldn’t care less.
I have no love for running whatsoever. I do it purely and solely because it is good for my health. There is no love relationship with it; I am not passionate for the sweating and the huffing and puffing I go through every-time. I am not a fan of having to convince myself from not stopping all the time. It is a constant mental battle and constant fighting with my body. Because, I guess, some people have bodies which are in dying need of running. My body is in dying need of couch-ing. When I run, I am like a nagging wife who constantly reminds her husband to do something. “Don’t stop, run faster, don’t stop, think positive, you can do this, don’t stop, pick up the pace, yes you can do another five minutes, don’t stop, didn’t I tell you not to stop?!”
But, as I tell all my friends who find running to be “boring” and hate to do it… You probably don’t like to go to work everyday either and yet…. you go. You make yourself do it. Why? Because you get paid. If you go running, you are compensated with good/better health. It’s boring, yes, but how many things in life are beautifully boring and yet a major part of our lives? So do it, be passionate about your hate for running and go sweat your butt off.
P.S: Thanks for reading my post, now share your thoughts on running with me 🙂
I like to think I am a grateful person, but perhaps I am not as grateful for things as much as I would like to be. As Jack Dawson said: “I got air in my lungs, and a few blank sheets of paper” (still one of my favorite quotes from Titanic).
I am healthy, I have a job, I get to find time time to enjoy my hobbies, I have David by my side. I have my wacky family by my side (for the most part). I live in the best country on Earth (‘Merica!) and I have food on the table. Above all, I get to write stories. I should be so grateful. So darn grateful. But I am not. I constantly want more. I want to sell more books, lose weight, travel more, upgrade my kitchen (it is so tiny!) etc.
So today, I acknowledge my blessings and I will strive my best to be better at stopping and counting them more. I am lucky. So lucky. How grateful are you for what you have?
Finally! Skinny people have to take care of their bodies too! We are going back to the Spartan times. The times of fit people sweating together and sculpting their bodies. I mean, we should politely disregard the military-style education program with hazing and fighting.. here, we are talking about the work on their bodies, their ultimate obsession to achieve the bulkiest, chizzled and god-like muscles. Men or women, they were all supposed to strive to be physically fit.
Somewhere between Sparta and Twiggy, skinny people strategically positioned themselves to be adored and admired. I don’t know how we let them get away with it, but we did. And as lucky as they were with their genetically given bodies that have metabolisms on steroids, they were laughing at us as they ate chips and didn’t gain a pound.
But now, a new revolution is happening. It is slow, but it is sure. Skinny people can’t just be skinny. Now they look weak. And jiggly. And not toned. It is great! As a person who struggled with being fat my entire life, it is nice that the trend is moving towards a “healthy lifestyle.” Because just because you are skinny, doesn’t mean you are healthy. I have tons of skinny friends who gobble down cakes and hamburgers and almost lose weight.
It’s a new trend of eating food that fuels your body. A trend of working out hard to sculpt your body. No one can get away with being lazy or having good genes. You have to work for it, and you have to discipline yourself. It’s nice. Because ultimately it is about being healthy, and that’s what matters the most.
“Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue features its first-ever plus-size model” I couldn’t help myself but clicking on the darn article. I am not skinny at all. But I am not fat either- mostly hourglass shaped. I have some junk in the trunk but the trunk is not overflowing if you know what I mean. So I click on this article and I get mad. Further I scroll down, more annoyed I get.
Somehow the “beauty” industry either has to go Holocaust skinny or obese with their models and label them as “curvy.” I’m almost insulted the way they use the word curvy. Because when I saw Ashley Graham on that cover she does not look curvy but she looks fat. And she can be whatever size she wants to be, but I wish they wouldn’t call her curvy. Because curves mean something else. Or at least, it used to mean something else.
It is hard to write this as I encourage the industry to move away from the ghostly skinny standards, but encouraging obesity is not something they should do either. Obesity-related conditions include heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes and certain types of cancer.
American women have to stop hiding under the layer of “curviness” when they are actually fat. If you want to be fat, fine, be fat. I like to be fat too sometimes. But the bigger concern is that Americans are misinformed on what being fat these days actually means. More than one-third of American adults are obese. We’ve gotten so used to seeing our obese friends we compare ourselves to them. My Mom is fat, my sister is fat, my Dad is fat…. but I mean, compared to those really fat people I see elsewhere, they are normal sized, right?
1:00 pm- My lunch break is over and I successfully avoided my lunch running buddies. I mean, I have horrendous back pain, what can I do?
1:15 pm- Starting to feel a little guilty about lying to my co-workers about back pain. But they always go so fast! I can’t catch up with them. It’s better I didn’t go.
3:00 pm- I feel like my legs look excessively large today. I should have gone running.
4:00 pm- Great, because I skipped my lunch run I have to stay late at the gym.
5:15 pm- I feel guilty as I drive by my gym. It’s staring judgmentally back at me. Look away, gym. There is nothing to see here!
7:00 pm- Got my grocery shopping done. My running shoes are ogling me. I feel so darn guilty. Should I go to the gym or not? I am so darn tired.
7:30 pm- David asks me why I skipped gym. I hate it when he points things out. I skipped it. So what? He mumbles something about me constantly complaining about my weight and how I should go to the gym since we paid for it.
7:32 pm- We did pay for it but I am entitled to a break, aren’t I?
7:45 PM- I drive to the damn gym. The moment I start running I actually feel better. My body is thanking me. I needed this.
We, Americans, forgot how to walk. Period. We can hide among our giant SUVs but not for long.
When I lived in Europe, i dropped 20 pounds. I wasn’t even eating that much different, I just walked everywhere. To the bus stop, to go to school, to the store, to the bank, to the park….whatever it was, it required some walking. I dreaded having my relatives or friends come visit me in Europe, because I knew they won’t be in the walking shape they need to be in and to top it all- I knew they would complain about having to walk everywhere even if just to the bus stop.
Here in Orlando, and most other American cities, walking doesn’t get you far. I get that. But to be too lazy to walk across the parking lot or to walk around the store and instead get the electric carts…that’s pushing it people. As a nation, we forgot how to walk. On a daily basis. Not when we are on vacation and we “have to” stroll down the beach… or when we walk around a theme park. No, I mean daily freaking basis! We forgot how important it is to move, to use your muscles and actually break a sweat if necessary.
Why and when did we get so lazy? What are your thoughts? Comments?
P.S: Thanks to all the new (and old) followers who took the time to read this!
P.S2: If you want to read more about Europe, check out my book on Amazon! 🙂
In pain. So much pain today. I went to the gym and lifted. Now, my muscles are crying and the only question that comes to mind, as I lay on the couch half dead, is: why did I do this to my body?
You see, I think anybody who works out should get a medal…and money. I feel like if I am going through all this pain and suffering somebody should reward me. Why am I paying the gym? They should be paying me! Or somebody else, perhaps the government, should give me money to get my ass off the couch. After all, I could have stayed at home, ate chips and watched re-runs of Downton Abbey. But I didn’t. I went to the gym knowing my biceps will revenge for the workout. I can’t walk. I can’t move. But it would be better if I knew I got 25 dollars I can spend on something, perhaps a massage afterwards.
Do you think you would workout more if they gave you money for each workout?