Category Archives: An ass the size of Rhode Island

Laden with Expletives

“And I never wanted anything from you. Except everything you had. And what was left after that too.” – Florence And The Machine

Winter Workout 2011

Winter Workout 2011 (part deux)

First of all, I have recently updated my workout mix. Second of all, you should probably cover your kids’ ears when sampling any of those suckers because oh my God. Nothing like a melodic Fuck You and a thumping It’s Me, Bitches to get your heart rate up.

I have semi strict criteria for planning a playlist for running. First of all, I need to have at least a half-hour of extra music for those moments when you really cannot stand to hear someone’s voice and you’re pressing the forward button on your ipod with a fierceness. Sometimes at mile nine you kind of want to punch Florence in her machine. “The dog days are most surely NOT over”, you pant mid-stride.

What I love most is the stark contrast to my writing playlist which makes me look so gentle and makes me feel like busting out a woodwind as opposed to an angry person calling women ‘bitches’ and hoes’ while running past children.

Teach me How To Dougie is on there not because it will cause one to sprint that last half mile but because there’s always that part mid-run when you just need a good beat. Something to smooth it out. Loosen up your legs, run with your arms hanging and maybe sway side to side.

Also posted in Humdrum | 4 Comments

Run for cover

“Everyone who has run knows that its most important value is in removing tension and allowing a release from whatever other cares the day may bring.”  ~Jimmy Carter

WARNING: EXTREME NARCISSISM AHEAD.

Poor planning on my part is what led to three 5Ks in three weeks. It also led to a reduction in my Spongebob Squarepants body shape and an ability to breathe while wearing pants again. It did nothing for the tear inducing foot pain but it I did end up shaving 6 minutes and 7 seconds off of my overall time. I’m nowhere near my personal best and I fear that by announcing this to the public at large my friend Bill, the super marathoner, will woo me with GSM and then be all, “By the way, after you finish that bottle, we’re running 7.5 mils in the morning!” and then he might be missing an important appendage.

I honestly couldn’t have gotten through dragging my large ass up some mini-hills without music. Music is what fills the soul. Music is what people turn to when there aren’t enough words. Music is also good at preventing me from dick punching* those assholes who finish the 5K in 18 minutes and then decide the taunt the rest of us by running back through the course. Music saves lives.

Here are my most favorite songs to run to and I’m about to download Rump Shaker because if someone telling you, “I’m feelin’ manly and your shaker’s comin’ in handy” doesn’t get your ass moving then I don’t know what will:

1) Groove is in the Heart – Deee Lite

2) Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See – Busta Rhymes

3) Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen

4) It’s Me Bitches – Swizz Beatz

5) Ms. New Booty – Bubba Sparxx

6) Temperature – Sean Paul

7) Tambourine – Eve

8) Single Ladies – Beyonce

9) Mr. Brightside – The Killers

10) Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas

Final 5K- PRIDE!

Final 5K_Pride socks

*I got that phrase from Linda. She makes my potty mouth that much more vulgar.

Also posted in Fotografias, Great moments in narcissism | 11 Comments

It’ll be 5K or K.O.

“Jogging is very beneficial. It’s good for your legs and your feet. It’s also very good for the ground. It makes it feel needed.” ~Charles Schulz, Peanuts

5K #1

Several months ago I decided that it would be fun to take up running again. I figured that by using a mind meld method – on myself – I could will my body to run like the wind. I CAN FLY! I would say during my pre-run personal encouragement party. I’d pump up Beyonce and move my ass “….if you like it then you better put on a ring on it. ”

Then after four minutes of that, I’d be like fuck this noise and walk as my left lung shot out of my mouth and flopped onto the sidewalk.

Long story short, I currently am the same shape as Sponge Bob Squarepants (the same height and width). So it’s either run and do yoga (“….feel your pubic bone meet the top of your spine as you move in a direction that is supremely unhuman…OMMMMM”) or continue to take great pain to put on pants. I’d rather run.

Tonight was my first 5K of three. In three weeks. It was a complete accident in timing and circumstance and now I guess that I’ll be running. A lot. And hopefully my butt will downsize. A lot.

Posted in An ass the size of Rhode Island | 16 Comments

There’s the tiniest sliver of hope at the end of this tunnel

“The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche



Excuse me while I remove (Read: lick) some sugar cookie frosting from my digits. And while I’m licking, a word to the wise: Always under bake your sugar cookies. It makes them that much better. But ample amounts of frosting will always do the trick. Think about it.



Ah, now that that is over, it has come to my attention – via a checkup and blood work yesterday – that I am on the wrong side of BMI. The ‘obese’ side, she announces as she picks sprinkles off the remainder of the cookie. I found it delightfully entertaining when the person who took my height and weight repeated the ‘But you don’t look it’ catch phrase. For the record being told such doesn’t make me feel better, it makes me want to judo chop a scale and question how one’s looks are relevant. Also, I don’t look like you could fashion me into the base of a parade float but height and weight have dictated otherwise.



There’s a nurse practitioner still scratching her head about this one.
Then I went home and ran and did the 30 Day Shred and felt my heart ‘garggling’ in my throat. Then I cried again and realized that part of the extreme weight gain is probably because I spent three solid months not at home and during my long term tour of the 48 contiguous states, I was also severely depressed. So to recap: I was sad and got fat and then my anti-sad medication kept me on a trajectory to being forced to buy two seats for myself on a plane.



OK it’s nothing that extreme as the flight attendant pointed out to me when I was able to swiftly maneuver myself away from spilling hot coffee by doing a hop/step/jump between an airplane seat, the tray table and the obnoxious bitch in front of me who wouldn’t raise her seat back so I could at least sit down. Yet there I was able to get my ass moved into the tiniest space possible without a hitch or ripping a stitch. So you know, yay me!



Since this development I’ve been alternately crying and canceling shopping trips because I don’t want to shop. I don’t care that it’s not like I have an issue finding clothing anywhere, because I truly don’t. But it’s a me thing – a thing that causes this cantaloupe sized lump in my throat because I’m fat. No one wants to be the fat girl. The one thing I should be able to control I have never once been able to. It’s like holding a wriggling lizard in my hand: The second I think I have a good grasp on it, it slips out again. Flopping around and trying to get away while I huff and puff and chase after it. Everything I cannot control: My career, my writing. Well that shit is going well, thank you for asking.



Let’s just say that it’s making me far more depressed and ornery than usual. Let’s also say that I do not think that the Wii Fit will change my life. But I do think that a month of no flying and being home and half-marathon training will probably help. Speaking of the Wii Fit, the winner is Neena. Neena doesn’t have a blog but her comment was something along the lines of ‘I look like I am pregnant and I am definitely NOT pregnant’. I picked her using a random number generator but when I saw that comment I wanted to high five her and do a chest bump.



A chest bump with my chest which has grown exponentially in size. Joy! Since hey, hey, hey, I’ve got boobs. Sad! Since boobs are just fat repositories and yet haven’t gone completely pessimistic when I say, at least the fat is going to my boos and not giving me cankles. So, it appears that there is at least a sliver of light peaking through at the end of this long, dark and ultimately depressing tunnel o’ fat.



Posted in An ass the size of Rhode Island | 36 Comments

Activity Points

“Weight Watchers can kiss the fattest part of my ass” – Jen Lancaster

Things that should have a Weight Watchers Activity Points Value:

1)    Getting undressed then redressed while upacking a suitcase while going through security in under 47 seconds.

2)    Running through a terminal then back to the beginning with heart rate increased upon realizing that your boarding pass is at security then running back through the terminal.

3)    Chasing after a plane.

4)    Lifting a laptop bag and 30lbs of camera equipment into the overhead compartment. (Think of your deltoids!)

5)    With the laptop bag, 30lbs of camera equipment on one shoulder and an oversized hobo bag on the other shoulder along with 40lbs of clothing and shoes in a large suitcase, chase after a MARC train in a station with an inoperable elevator. First run up a flight of stairs, across an enclosed bridge then down a flight of stairs behind an 80 year old man who seems to think that catching a train means walking slowly and deliberately like the train is going to sit there and give him an engraved invitation to take his damn time. Reach the train platform to see the train pull away. Then run back up the same flight of stairs you just came down, run back across the enclosed bridge, back down the next flight, tap your foot and bite your cuticles while waiting in line (an easy 150 calories burned). Oh! The train comes in three minutes! Run up a flight of stairs, back across the enclosed bridge then down a flight of stairs to the train and drag your possessions to a seat at the end of the last car and hoist your 40lbs suitcase to the overhead rack. Seriously, y’all an easy 350 calories burned.

And this morning? I’m currently sitting in bed and it feels like 897 tiny men are poking my upper back with fire pokers. Then after the poking they are kicking their tiny feet along my neck. It feels glorious. Also my ass is still fat. But soon my arms are going to be all “Welcome to the Gun Show.”

Posted in An ass the size of Rhode Island | 17 Comments