Existential Crisis #88

Actually, I’ve probably had quite a few more existential crises, but that was the first number to come to mind. 

I’ve made the decision, again, that I need to write every day. I found a tumblr with writing prompts that are less irritating than the ones I’d been doing previously. I couldn’t make it through February’s and March’s looked just as unappealing. 

But today is not that day. Tomorrow is that day. The day that I start doing that… again.

Today, I feel the need to write because I need to write. It’s been too long, but at the same time, I feel like I don’t have anything to talk about because nothing happens to me. 

Oh yeah, I last wrote about how I was starting to work out and I was super into it. I’m happy to report that that is still the case. I’ve been regularly working out since May 30th and I actually feel pretty fucking fantastic. I also started a product/program called Advocare. I came across Advocare on Pinterest when I saw a story by this woman named Terica Messmer (http://www.trimmedandtoned.com/weight-loss-inspiration-to-sculpted-bikini-competitor-terica-messmer-talks-with-tt). I was inspired and interested, so I went ahead and ordered it for myself. 

After creeping through her Instagram and other Advocare users’ Instagrams, I realized that this product/program seems to actually work for people. I also decided that even if it doesn’t, it will have gotten me to do cardio and strength training every day, as well as eating healthily. So either way, I was going to see a result. I’m all about that Placebo effect.

There is a 24 Day Challenge with Advocare which entails a ten-day cleanse and then a fourteen-day max phase (whatever that is). I started the challenge on June 9th and I’ve already seen results, both on the scale, in my body fat percentage, and even in the mirror a bit. I’ve been eating more than I was before all of this, just healthy stuff now. 

I’m actually a bit obsessed, as it happens. Or shall we say, dedicated. Or shall we even say, consumed. I used to hate all the shit about ‘oh, it’s a lifestyle change’ blah blah, but it’s so true. The funny thing is that I haven’t even craved fast food since I started all of this. I’ve opened up a can of Coke Zero only to forget about it and let it go flat/warm. To be honest, I’ve done that twice. 

I have been eating homemade wraps – tomato basil/wheat/spinach pesto tortilla, chicken breast (as in the Oscar Meyer carving board kind because I’m still super lazy), baby spinach, romaine lettuce, pepperjack/cheddar cheese, ranch dressing, and sometimes hot sauce. I usually put on too much lettuce and then I can’t fully wrap the tortilla around everything and it’s a sodding mess, but a delicious one. I’ll seriously have two of those a day because they’re so good. Otherwise, I’ll have a salad with tuna/salmon, or carrots and hummus, or steamed veggies with hot sauce. 

I’m drinking a ton of water. At least 64oz when I’m working out, but probably that much during the day anyway. I still get my shaken green tea lemonades from Starbucks. I haven’t even wanted/needed coffee. I seriously don’t have any cravings and it’s a bit scary. 

For Father’s Day, Conor and I took dad to Longhorn Steakhouse because it’s his favorite. I had peach tea instead of pop (HUGE for me lately), a 6oz filet with green beans, and didn’t even want the bread on the table. I’m sure my dad and brother were confused as all hell. Sure, we got Dairy Queen ice cream after, but it was Father’s Day. (Plus, I’d done a seven-mile run/walk just before dinner, so I think I was safe). 

I don’t know. It’s the damnedest thing. I’ve taken maybe three days off since May 30th. I only did abs on Saturday and hated it. Even though it was supposed to be my rest day. I don’t even want to take a rest day. 

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to be skinny, I want to be fit. I want definition in my arms, my shoulders, my back, my abs, my ass, my thighs, my calves. I want to be strong. I want a 5k to be easy – a quick workout I could squeeze into any day. I want to look how I feel. Also, I am dying to see my body that way. I’ve never seen it fit. I’ve never seen it really toned. 

It’s just time I took care of myself, so that’s what I’m doing. 

Like I said, I also need to get back into writing. And write every day. And write more of my novel. Yeah, I’m trying to do that, too. I’ve got about 11,000 words. I haven’t felt as creative lately. That’s part of my crisis. I’m seriously just obsessed with this new movement. But if I can take two hours to work out every day, I can take some time to do a daily writing prompt. 


Do They Make Spanx Bikinis By Any Chance?

It’s summer again and I’m finally able to spend some time at the pool. (Being unemployed has so many perks).

However, this summer, it’s not work or clouds keeping me from donning that bikini, it’s the fact that it probably won’t fit.

I’m at my heaviest weight. Ever. I thought I was at my heaviest weight ever when I went away to college. 

My freshman year, my roommate and I felt like shit and decided to do something about it. We dieted (a bit too) heavily and spent two or more hours at the rec every day. I dropped thirty pounds instead of gaining the Freshman Fifteen.

Unfortunately, all I’d been doing was cardio and no strength training, so not only was I essentially skin and bones, but I gained it all back (and more) over the past six years. 

Jesus Christ, has it been that long since my freshman year of college?!

During my sophomore and junior years, I managed to run about three miles almost-every day, but I definitely found the pounds I’d worked so hard to lose.

A couple years ago, a coworker talked me into doing a ten-week kickboxing program that’s supposed to just get you shredded. It works if you follow everything to a T, but who am I kidding? I think I lost a bit, and she didn’t lose much either, so we then decided to get a gym membership.

I’ve always phoned it in when it came to working out because I’m chronically out of shape and just lazy. Something about Lifetime made me want to spend no fewer than three hours there. Every night. I’d pop in around 11pm or midnight and wouldn’t leave until two or three in the morning. No one was there, I had the place to myself. I could spend an hour and a half on the stationary bike and watch a couple episodes of Doctor Who, I could use the weight trees and the lifting area usually occupied by super buff dudes, I could sit in the sauna for a half hour and sing along to my iPod. It was glorious.

I noticed after a while of doing that, I toned up quite a bit. I could tell I was turning fat into muscle. 

As usual, there’s always that event that comes along to fuck up all of your progress – https://friisey.com/2013/11/21/two-days-in-nowhere/ – I stopped going to the gym and ordered way too much Jimmy John’s.

So here I am today: at my heaviest weight, at the beginning of summer, dying to go to the pool (well, okay, it’s a bit overcast at the moment), and wishing I’d spent the past six months whipping my body into a shape other than blob (like I’ve done for the past who-knows-how-many summers).

Although, today, I’m optimistic. Now, I go through this every time I start working out. Oh boy, this is sure fun! I love the endorphins and the sore muscles and I’m gonna do so well this time and this will be the last time I’m going to do this so I can just spend my time maintaining my perfect fitness!…. And then I sabotage myself or just get bored or I don’t see progress quickly enough for my liking and then I’m on the Jimmy John’s website before I know what my fingers are doing.

But like I said, I’m optimistic. And I’m kind of at my wit’s end. I know I’ve also said that a million times. I’m going to be twenty-six in six months. I’m an adult. I want to find a man and get married and have kids sometime within the next five years. I want to write a book. I want to feel comfortable with myself. I want my inner confidence to flow outward. I just want to look good because I feel good, and vice versa. Enough is enough. This is my last last straw. 

Since Friday, May 30th, I’ve worked out every day (except my rest day yesterday). Today is National Running Day (or something) so it’s not like I can pass up a run today (even if my legs are fucking killing me). I’ve been on the Health and Fitness Pinterest boards which I knew existed, but never noticed. I made a calendar for the month of June with a smoldering photo of Benedict Cumberbatch on it as inspiration: “He’s giving you the eye. It can either be a look of disappointment or a look of sex – it’s up to you.” (You can have that). I gave myself a stipulation: I can only go to the pool once I’ve lost ten pounds. My overall goal for now: Lose twenty-five pounds. 

I’m ready. I’ve been ready. I’ve started, and I’m going to do this. 

I’d love to enjoy this summer (and, um, fit into any of my shorts), I have mom’s wedding end of August, I’m a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding in October, my birthday is in October, etc. It just has to happen now. 

And honestly, I feel loads better already. I swear it was the third day, I hadn’t even worked out yet, and I just felt super comfortable with my body. I felt good because I felt sore, I felt good because I’d started this mission, and I felt good because I know where I’m headed and that I’m finally going to get there. I think the recent blast of female empowerment helped, also. My lack of fucks given has increased (or decreased) and I’m going to Walgreens in yoga pants like, oh, I’m sorry, can you see my thighs are a bit ripply at the moment? Well, bring your eyes upward – no, not to my eyes, to my ass. That’s right, my ass. It’s round and shapely and it’s mine. Oh, that bit of jiggle on my tum? Yeah, well, that won’t be around for long, but since it’s here right now, feel free to wish you could run your fingertips over my soft skin.


Another unexpected bout of confidence, and my inspiration for writing today, came from the amount of pins on the Health and Fitness Pinterest board regarding butt-lifting workouts. Or butt-plumping workouts. Or butt-enhancing workouts. I scrolled past about twenty of them before it hit me that I was scrolling past them because I don’t need them. My ‘ghetto-booty,’ as we used to call it, used to bring me to tears in the dressing room because it wouldn’t allow any goddamn pants to fit over it. Today, it brings a tear to my eye because I now realize it’s something to be coveted by men and women alike. 

In fact, I’d be nervous about doing too much cardio in fear of losing it. 

This has been a healing moment between my ego and my ass.

In conclusion, whether you’re wanting to lose weight or gain weight or firm up dat ass or whatever, start now. Just start now. You’ll literally feel better the second you do, and then even better once you finish, and then even better the next day. Then you’ll come to that second life-changing opportunity when you have to decide between making it two days in a row or settling back into old habits. Then you’ll have a chance on the third day to turn it into a streak or wish you’d continued with it yesterday. Whatever motivation, do it for you. Do it to feel better, because even when you gain two pounds the first week (it’s the fluid retention from the muscles repairing themselves, don’t worry), it’s already worth it – it’s your health. It’s your sanity. It’s your confidence. It’s your happiness. 

And in the mean time: embrace the body you have right now because you have it right now. You’re not going to lose three dress sizes after a mile run, so you might as well be okay with you as you are. You’re going to be changing, and embrace all the changes along the way. There’s someone in your life who deserves to have you happy, and that’s you. 

This has been a public service announcement brought to you, in part, by Jimmy John’s.
God, seriously, they’re delicious.


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