In absence I eat (and drink)

It’s been awhile. That happens. Life does it’s thing, which usually involves taking you for a ride you didn’t ask to go on. I like to tell myself that I will budget time better, but I always know it’s a bit of a white lie.

It’s not easy trying to juggle parenthood and a work schedule. Throw into that a house that has a sudden vendetta against you, and a toddler that is getting molars, and well, this isn’t the roller coaster I thought I was getting on. Best we can do is take it day-to-day and keep chugging forward.

Mix all this together and you get tighter jeans.

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It’s been almost three months since the end of Biggest Loser and I’m barely maintaining a once a week presence at the gym. Some weeks are better than others. I have only fluctuated weight a couple of pounds, but I can tell I’ve been losing muscle, which means I’m offsetting it with fat. This is largely due to a terrible schedule which drives me to eat whatever I can get my hands on, whenever I can get it.

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Sure there are healthy meal and snack options out there, but previous posts have made it pretty clear that I’m a picky eater and I am not one to knosh on raw carrots (or any vegetables for that matter). In addition to poor eating habits, I’ve been enjoying a beer (or two) on a nightly basis. I love me some beer, and we’ve had some really great beer on tap at work. It’s hard to turn down a free beverage after a long shift when you know it’s only going to be on the line for a few days.




I told myself I wouldn’t fall into this trap, as Biggest Loser was tying up. However, a lack of funds kept me from signing up for classes. A toddler who shits himself 30 minutes into a workout (I swear to god that kid is running his bowel movements on a timer that is based on my workouts), makes maintaining momentum impossible. Now we’ve hit the terrible two’s and second molars, and so pleasing the child has been difficult. Which means I don’t get the workouts I want, when I want. tantrum.gif

I can keep making up excuses, trust me, I’m pretty fucking good at it.  What it really comes down to is putting my foot down and demanding me time. Something I have never been good at. Telling other people “no” does not come easy to me. Being the people pleaser keeps me from doing things for me.

caring too much.gifAs a co-worker stated the other day, I have to learn to take care of me before I take care of others (with the exception of the bi-polar demon child). That means saying “no”, that means going to the gym when I want to go to the gym, it also means turning down a free beer and maybe skipping the peanut butter cookie (brushes crumbs off her keyboard).

So how does one say “no” when it’s in her nature to say “yes?” Not asking for a friend, legit trying to teach myself such a simple task.


A week off (and then some)

I took last week off. Made it to the gym for my normal time on Tuesday, and then didn’t go again until Sunday. I needed a week off. We sometimes forget to take a little break so as not to burn out. The key is to not let it become a large break.

I’m working on the latter part.

I also ate very poorly last week. I took a week off and ate food I love and drank some amazing beer. I said on Sunday I would get back into the swing of things. I did go to the gym and did a killer leg work-out (I still feel it in my hamstrings today!). I’ve been “better” in my food consumption than last week. Now it’s time to get to the gym.

My schedule at work is changing which means my gym routine needs to change. That’s the part that’s hanging me up at the moment. No more Tuesday morning early gym as I am working until 1 a.m. followed by a 10 a.m. open. There’s a class on Wednesday mornings that I’m hoping to start next week. Need to sort out the rest of the schedule. Maybe Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a while. It’ll all work out, somehow. Gotta keep pushing.

I need a new goal to keep me moving.

Weigh-in: … Lets just skip that this time around…


Does this warrant a blog post…

This may be the lack of calories talking. Or the lack of adequate beer consumption. Maybe it’s the sore pecs and hamstrings. Maybe I’m just in a hungry, in a pissy mood, and want to bitch. But for real, fuck the janky chinese restaurant down the road.

My husband grew up getting take out from the place, they’re less than six blocks away, and he’s been on this chinese food kick lately. Honestly, their food is mediocre on it’s best days. The chicken is gristle and rubber, and most of every thing I have ever ordered has been greasy and overcooked. This is a place you go if you want “the worst leftovers in Madison.”

But my husband loves it and tonight I caved and they screwed me.

No, I didn’t check the bag before I left. Yes, I could totally pack it up and go back and demand they fix it. But you know what. I’m crabby. I’m tired. I didn’t even want it in the first place. He’s craving it, I’m like “fine, I’ll get some fried rice, that sounds good actually.” I get home and I have soggy Crab Rangoons.

I fucking LOATH Crab Rangoons. If I wanted fried cream cheese and fake crab– You know what, not even worth the thought. I don’t ever want fried cream cheese and fake crab. I have never and will never understand the appeal of fake crab, no less fried into a greasy, soggy lump.

So now he’s gaming with the boys, eating his General Tso’s and I’m seething on the internet, debating what I can concoct out of my fridge to get through the night without killing someone.

Weigh-in: 174.6 (Gastrointestinal bugs will do a favor for the scale)

Week 10, three to go

Last week was a rough week and I fell backwards a little bit. Didn’t gain any weight, didn’t lose any either. I’ve hit the plateau. 

This morning my trainer and I discussed pushing it the next theee weeks. I’m going to give it a go. Four trips to the gym this week, five in week 11 and 12. This includes an additional personal training appointment on Thursday’s and with some scheduling luck an MX4 class mixed in. 

Need to watch the diet as well. I know I said I was going to stick with portion control and not go extreme diet, but my goal is 2.5lbs a week until the final weigh in. That means cutting out the crap and the excuses. 

I should be able to pull this off until at least Friday. 

Here goes nothing. 

Weigh-in: 179.8lbs Jeans got a little tighter in the waist this weekend. 

Talk about demoralizing

Last week was all about being motivated by others, this week lets focus on being demoralized by others.

When I see strong women at the gym, it motivates me to be like them. They are my role models. Sometimes I feel like a creeper, it’s just that they are awesome. This isn’t about being demoralized by Wonder Woman’s half-sister. No, this is about the cheaters.

Every week we have a challenge that we have to do in our classes. Completing a challenge gains us a point towards our weekly goals. Have a bad weigh-in? Just make sure you get the challenge point and it won’t be so bad. I like the challenges. They engage me, give me a goal, feeds a competitive spirit. The first week it was how many meters can we row in two minutes. Weeks two and four were finding recipes and articles online. Week three was how many floors can you get on a stair-stepper in two minutes. This week… I didn’t fail per se, but it wasn’t good.

This week was a two-part challenge. How many push-ups can you do in one minute, followed by how long can you hold a plank. Now as long as you do the challenge you get the point. Do one push-up and hold a plank for a couple of seconds and you get the point. Great. Okay. I can do this. I’m not bad at push-ups…. oh… did I mention you can’t do modified push-ups? Well you can’t, so fuck me. Fine. What ever. I’ve been seeing a trainer since August and doing this program for four full weeks, I’m sure I can do one fucking standard push-up.

Spoiler alert: I CAN’T.

We partner off and I’m going second. I’m counting my partner’s push-ups and I’m looking around and what the ever-living hell is happening?  These aren’t push-ups. These are an abomination of an idea of a push-up. One woman had 48 push-ups, because apparently just stirring the air a bit counts. Another woman, who at least managed to bend her elbows at about 170°, well she got 42 push-ups.

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Same went for planks.



Most of the ladies claimed to hold a plank for well over two minutes. What they looked like was a cat in heat. I wanted to bitch slap their asses right out of the class, and the trainer doesn’t even call them on it! I keep looking at him, waiting, and he says NOTHING.

Then it’s my round and I go for a push-up and I literally get stuck trying to push back up and then fall. I spend the entire minute, my elbows collapsing, failing at doing one fucking push-up. I try to do the shoulder shrugging version of the push-up that the other women are all doing and the trainer CALLS ME ON IT! He wants to see just one solid push-up from me. He KNOWS I CAN DO IT. He finally lets me get away with going about half-way down and back up and gives me credit for one push-up, but it isn’t a real credit. Not in my mind it’s not. I didn’t touch my nose to the floor. I didn’t get myself back up. It’s a fake point damn it!

I planked like a champ though. No ass in the air planks for this girl. I got me a solid 1 minute 24 seconds of proper form plank. This is a big deal. In August I was lucky to get 30 seconds. A few weeks ago I could BARELY pull off a minute. Damn near 90 seconds is a solid win. And I did it the right way.

best i could.gifWhat I tell myself is that the trainer leading tonight’s class actually gives a shit about me and my progress. He has a vested interest in it as I pay him to kick my ass once a week. I tell myself that he’s written the others off as lost causes and he wants me to do things the right way. But to give them credit for completing the challenge, in my book that’s bullshit. Because of the way I think it had thrown my mental state off for the rest of class.

Weigh-in 184.8 lbs (Are you kidding me? Exact same weigh-in as last Wednesday?)

Pet peeves of mixed small group classes

I will preface this by saying I have done EVERY SINGLE ONE of these things. It’s that self-awareness that has motivated to make positive changes in how I do things. It’s easy to fall into these traps and I’m calling them out so that we all think about how we want to be the change, see the change, and help others change.stop-bitching

Stop the whining, this is hard for everyone. I’m a vocal ventor. Everything I’m thinking and feeling I tend to say out loud. I bitch, a lot. It’s a negative aspect of my personality that I have been working on for most of my life. It’s exponentially worse when I work out. I get frustrated and I bitch about it. I think there is a difference between muttering in frustrated and whining though.

Whiny people are looking for feedback. Preferably positive, but they’ll take the negative. They whine about their weight, what hurts, too much weight to lift, too many laps to run, too fast on the treadmill. They want the trainer to go “Oh, 15 pounds is too heavy, here, try five instead.” Except that a trainer isn’t going to do that. Their job is to assess the person they are working with, make a calculated decision about what that person can handle, and then push them to do it. Don’t fucking whine at the trainer or the class instructor. They feel no pity. They already have your money and your consent and they are going to do their job which is to challenge you to be better. Whining about it, especially in group class, just makes you look weak and foolish.

For me that was motivation. When  I stepped outside myself and thought “Is this what I sound and look like?” It helped me to change. Yes, I’ll bitch about something. Yesterday the trainer gave me 35 pounds to do squat lifts with. I made it through five and I swore the whole time. He realized that he made an error and I did need less weight. I didn’t beg for it, I didn’t whine about it. I did as many reps as I could until he saw that I was likely going to hurt myself. But during those five reps I put sailors to shame.

Sometimes you physically can’t do it. Don’t stop, modify. I’ve been in classes with people who just quit. HIIT and Circuit Training are big right now. Why? Because they work. I have a love/hate relationship with both. They work, but damn are they hard. I struggle with endurance and HIIT is perfect for improving that. Sometimes, though, I can’t make it through 60 seconds of squat jumps. My lungs just won’t let me do it. But that doesn’t mean I quit doing them. I slow down, for sure, but I get them done. I may not mean doing one a second. It’s more like one every three seconds, or every four seconds. Doesn’t matter, keep going. Focus on form and quality of the workout.

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If you are standing on the sidelines and watching you look like an asshole. I can’t fucking stand it when some whiny bitch goes, “This is too hard, I did like four,” and then they stop and watch everyone else work out. You know why you weigh 300 pounds and can’t figure out why you haven’t lost any weight? Because you are a quitter. Don’t cry to me about how hard it is, and you are a special snowflake. If you don’t want to do it, then don’t whine about being fat. Especially not to me, I’ve worked hard to get to where I am at. I hate every single workout, I honest to god do, but I don’t quit. If I quit I’ll still be overweight, tired, and miserable with myself.


On top of not doing yourself any favors, you are a distraction for everyone else that is putting in the work. Yes, when I run laps I sometimes have to stop and catch my breath. Stop for five seconds to clear your breathing and get back on rhythm, then walk another ten seconds, then pick up the pace again. Someday I won’t have to do this, and I do it a lot less than I used to, but don’t just stop. If you are going to stop, just leave. You’re a negative cloud on the whole damn group.

No one needs to be reminded that you used to be skinny. Hey, guess what, most of us used to be skinny. Some have never been skinny. No one cares. I bring this up too, and then I kick myself for it later. This is one of the most recent issues I’ve had with myself that I’ve been trying to change.

If someone asked me why I was doing this my answer used to be, “I was in pretty good shape a few years ago and I looked really good, I want to get back to that.” My new answer is, “I’m trying to better myself, get fit so that I can keep up with my kid. I want to play sports with my kid, help him practice, chase him around the yard.” There is truth in both, but one makes me sound like it’s all about image, and we need to steer away from that. If it comes up in conversation, then fine, just don’t let that be the reason you are there.

An old classmate of mine once said to me, “Now that I’m fat I understand how you felt all through high school.”

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While she was probably attempting to empathize with me, I don’t think she grasped just how horrible this made me feel. First off, she considered me fat when I was in high school.  Was I larger than she was? Yeah. It’s all a matter of perspective, really. I was taller, broader shouldered, and built a little buffer. Fat? Maybe it’s time to retire that term. But to tell me that she “understands how I felt?” What did she think I felt? Did she think that I spent every waking moment of my teenage years hating myself for being fat? Shaming myself? Shaming others?

Sometimes it did really bother me, sometimes I was able to shrug it off. Usually there were triggers and this once-upon-a-time twiggy bitch definitely was a trigger. So lets all stop and think about what we are saying when we go to the gym and announce to everyone that we “used to be skinny and that’s why we’re there.”

I’m no expert, and that’s exactly why I’m writing this blog. I’m going to sound like a real bitch sometimes because a lot of times I  lack a filter. I think that’s also why I write.

Monday’s weigh-in: 190 lbs (fuck.) Got a C on my food journal for week one (I’m assigning my own letter grade, but I think my trainer would agree.) Share with me your workout pet peeves.

All ideas come to me while I work

Lets be brief. I sling drinks and pizzas for a living. Five years ago I would have told you that doing this kind of work was beneath me. I have since learned that no job is beneath me. I love what I do. I’m good at it, and it pays well. 

The great thing about Bartending is that I have all walks of life sit at my bar. These people influence me in ways I hadn’t anticipated during all my years of desk jobs and school. 

By nature I am a fairly judgmental person. I would like to say that I’m not but I would be lying. Sometimes it shows and sometimes I manage the barest semblance of a poker face. Something I have learned from this, however, is that I can learn something from everyone that sits at my bar. While I’m judging I’m also absorbing. Later I may or may not regret how I handled a situation or spoke with a person, but I always reflect. 

Ramble, ramble, rambke; damn it Blythe, you said you would be brief. 

So I did. 

Yesterday I’m at work and thinking about next week and this program I’m starting at the gym. I’m still dwelling on just how many changes I have to make in my daily routine; lifestyle changes, diet, mental. While I’m stewing this over and asking myself what the f*** am I doing, it hits me; this is what I need to bring to Beer and Lattes. 

How perfectly fitting. A blog entitled Beer and Lattes will be about making positive life changes which will require fewer beers and lattes. 

Starting Saturday I’m going to chronicle what I put myself through. The good, the bad, and the nasty. I want to keep myself accountable. I want to have a sense of humor about it. I want to see positive life changes. And for some reason I want to do it to the amusement of others. 

As of publishing this post, I am home nursing a terrible chest and sinus cold. Which means Saturday is going to be super exciting. Hopefully it’s gone by Monday as that is my first personal training session. Or it could be an extremely amusing start to the next 12 weeks.