I know, you think this blog is about how I’ve been running. Particularly in light of the fact that this blog is called FatChicksRUNNING. But you would be wrong.

RUNNING in this case pertains to men. I had my first decent date in ages about 3 weeks ago. The date was on a friday night. On Saturday morning Mr. NotBadAtAll got on a plane for an unexpected business emergency (yes, it’s legit) and hasn’t been back to my timezone or been on my side of the Mississippi ever since.

The good news is that I’ve lost almost ten pounds since then becuase it turns out that meeting an intelligent, potentially attainable guy (unlike that bum George Clooney) is the best diet motivator ever.

Who knew, right?

I also have slightly more then 9 weeks until the Disneyland Half Marathon. I’m at the gym nightly although I’ve been cheating and riding the bike. I need to start working out in the morning so I can jog before my work day starts. Of course I’ve been whining about that for six months and it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe if Mr. NotBadAtAll would return to the Golden State that would be impetus for me to drag my butt out of bed at 6am. (probably not. LOL).

In other excellent news, my crackberry turns out to also double as a lovely MP3 player. I actually had no idea that function existed so it was a bitter/sweet discovery. “Oh AWESOME!” tempered by “Duh, maybe if you’d read the manual.” It’s a fun balance. LOL.

On the whole though I’m mostly cheerful and happily moving along.

How are you all doing?

So in my 12 lb quest, I’m now down 2. So that means I have 10 left to lose by Aug 2nd.

I’ve worked out 3 out of the 4 days this week so far. Circuit training, abs, and walking from 45 mins-1.5 hours. It’s working. I feel better. I look better. And I wanna keep up the momentum.

Problem is the 4th of July is in 2 days. I’m going to Birdrunner’s house for a cookout. And booze. There will be lots of booze. And even though I haven’t had one sip all week (see? I am cutting back) I am quite certain I’ll make up for lost sippage on Saturday. And then I’ll lose my momentum. Which sucks.

So I’m going to workout Saturday before I go to her house. And maybe that will help keep me honest and on track, because really, I hate the idea of ‘ruining’ a workout after I’ve done it. It’s one thing if I eat/drink and then don’t workout. It’s completely different if I workout then go eat and drink.

Next obstacle is the conference in DC. I’ll be traveling from the 14th-20th and it is not easy to eat right and drink little when traveling.

I have to go to the gym while there. Not every day, but at least 3-4 times. If I don’t, I won’t make my goal. And really, I have to make it. I hate the thought of failing this task.

I have 4.5 weeks until my book launch party. I have a goal of losing 12 lbs between now and then. IF I accomplish that goal, I will be at my lowest weight in 12 years. Yes, since before I had my last child. You see, I didn’t lose the baby fat after I gave birth, I just kept gaining.

I guess being oppositional is just in my nature.

So I’ve been going to the gym. I’ve lost the 5lbs I gained and now I’m back to where I was when I disappeared after I ran my 5K in March. I look pretty good, actually. And I feel great (which really is the most important thing, I suppose. But I can’t help but think “It’s better to look good, than to feel good.”)

My workouts lately have consisted of 40 minutes around the circuit room 3 days a week. When I do my 1 minute intervals on the step, I’m holding 8 lb weights. I’m steadily getting stronger, and my legs and arms are both slimming up. (slowly, ever so slowly, but definitely surely) I’ve been staying off the elliptical and getting my cardio outside by walking for an hour and a half 3-4 nights a week. It helps to pass the time when I have a friend with me, but my iPod and I are getting along very well lately, so no complaints about that. I actually enjoy my time to myself when I get it.

12 lbs in 4 weeks isn’t impossible, but I have a conference in DC in 2 weeks. The good news is, I’m broke, so I shouldn’t be eating and drinking my way through the town this time around.

What’s been going on with you guys. I see we’ve had a few new folks pop in and join us! Welcome as always. I’ve been a real slacker lately due to deadlines, etc. but I really am hoping to get back to blogging here at FCR on a much more regular basis. It keeps me honest.

Michael Jackson died?

Have you ever played that game? Where where you when. For example . . .

Where you when the Challenger blew up? I was watching the event on a tv along with the entire population of my tiny montessori school. The challenger blew up and we cheered because we thought that was the final blast off into space. I’ll never forget the look on my teacher’s face when we found out it was an explosion.

Where were you when you found out your beloved grandma had passed away? I was sitting on my couch in my grad school apartment. Even thinking about it makes me remember how I felt. It makes me particularly compassionate towards people who suffer loss.

Where were you when you first heard about 911? In grad school at the snack shop between classes. A huge crowd started running towards the student lounge and it seemed like there was a wall of people around the TV. Half my fellow students had loved ones who worked at the pentagon and the rumors about DC being on fire, New York being on fire, and LAX (Los Angeles International Airport my local airport) shutting down because it was a suspected terrorist target. It was all horrifying. One would think I’d feel cosy and safe in middle-of-nowhere Virginia but I felt helpless, isolated and worried about my family.

So…MJ died this week and I heard from my friend Kaige while I was driving in my car. He was a brilliant musician but a walking tragedy. I’m not big about public prayer but I am praying like crazy for his kids.

Where were you??

Thursday’s survey question: At what point does it become ok to kill your neighbor? Isn’t there a too-stupid-to-live-put-them-out-of-their-misery rule somewhere?

Last night I awoke at 12:30am to the sound of the fire alarm in my unit shrieking. Went to check it out and discovered water pouring through the alarm and two light fixtures. AGAIN. This is the third time in 8 years, and the second time for the same reason. Fridge exploded allowing water to pour unhindered though the exploded filter. 8 years ago when we first discovered this problem I tore GE’s legal department a new one for damages.

This time the woman tells me she noticed her fridge freezing veggies, etc. She knew that had caused a fridge filter to explode 8 years ago when a different neighbor lived above me so she had her son-in-law order the necessary piece online and install it. Did he install it correctly? Maybe. It’s always possible the piece malfunctioned. However, I have to assume no since I have a waterfall in my living room. Hell, I’m not even 100 percent sure she didn’t decide to save money and buy a non-GE part. It wouldn’t surprise me.

It is 2am by the time everything gets done. Water restoration guys now know me by name even half asleep at 1:30am. And then my neighbor turns to me, water streaming through two holes in my ceiling behind her, raises her voice above the sound of the blowers and dehumidifiers and says “what am I supposed to do now? Not use the fridge?”

Priceless.

This leaves me with several thoughts:
1) Never buy a standard-grade GE fridge they wouldn’t know quality control if it bit them in the ass.

2) Modern technology, though delightful, appears to be preventing natural selection.

3) It never occurred to me back when mom was teaching me manners and self-control that some day those skills would save me the hassle of trying to post bail for a homicide. Thanks Mom!

Your day looks better already, doesn’t it?

Dear Idiots-who-run-my-housing-complex,

Ordinarily I don’t think of you very fondly. You’re anal and annoying. You insist on stupid stuff like professional window washing three times a year which leaves all the dirt and causes me to lose window screens because the contractors never show up on the day you tell us.

Or, you pervs sit out on your balconies as I pathetically try to swim laps in the little swimming lane. Nothing makes me as self-conscious as knowning 25 people are watching my butt surface like Shamu when I doing kick turns. It’s awesome.

But today, I take back all that hostility. Why? Because today you are AWESOME. I just discovered our pathetic three cardio machine gym has direcTV with all the movie channels I’m too freaking cheap to order. So now when I am dying to see Johnny Depp I can drool while thudding along on the treadmill.

Hell YEAH!

Today is the awesome. Yes, yes it is.

So an evil friend of mine who shall remain nameless (mostly because I can’t remember which evil friend is responsible) sent me a link to a website that has basically become an addiction. Forget PerezHilton and his celebugossip, this stuff is priceless.

It’s like watching Darwin in action. If they put this stuff on reality TV I would never get anything done. Ever.

The site is called Texts from Last Night. I apologize in advance for the time suck. Sorta.

Basically people can submit embarassing text messages to the site and then people vote on them. Bad night or good night?

They’re all hysterical but here are some examples. The number in ( ) is the area code the text originated from.

(314): i was texting myself key events from last night so i could remember this morning. looked at my phone, texted my mother
instead. our numbers differ by 1 digit.

(443): the cashier wished me a happy fathers day while i bought condoms

And anyone relate to this?

(603): i saved all my weight watcher points for this alcohol

I went to Walmart the other day to enable my coffee habit.

Ordinarily I don’t spend that much time in Walmart, I walk in, buy the thing I need and leave. Mostly because I spent so much time at Wallyworld in grad school I feel like the Waltons made enough money off of me.

Anyway, that all changed when I grabbed my coffee, headed toward the checkout lanes and accidentally looked up as I was passing the clothing section.

Does anyone else remember Ocean Pacific clothing? I haven’t seen it in years although I live near the beach.

Does anyone else remember the last time neon pink, orange and yellow were a clothing staple? I believe Madonna was in her first incarnation back then.

And for the love of Pete is anyone else wondering why the hell someone with a huge butt like me (I would totally fit into those), should ever wear short shorts?

I want to be a clothing designer.

I want to tell whoever designs this crap that they are idiots. Big girls shouldn’t have to wear short shorts because that’s all that’s available “this season”. We don’t want crop top shirts and we don’t want shirts so long you literally need a tshirt clip from the 80s.

It’s just so wrong!

I am kind of hoping they bring back the slap bracelets though. Those things were awesome.

What’s your favorite 80s accessory?

Okay I guess technically it wasn’t a floating banana because this time my kayak was blue (YAY!). But I did decide to forego a gym workout for some solid water time yesterday.

For those of you who have never been on a kayak let me say this:

You know how female swimmers have amazing bodies but big man shoulders? Therein lies the problem kayaking. It’s a 100% upper body workout. And it’s a KILLER WORKOUT.

My favorite part though is being “one with nature” in a totally public, rent-by-the-hour kind of way.

Here is the water view of a bridge I drive over every day.

It’s totally cool paddling under it and reading things like “Carrie Loves Mike” and “Long Beach Crew FOREVER” and “Nick has a tiny dick” (okay I made the last one up just to see if you’re paying attention).

Unless you’re under the bridges you’re in a channel with amazing houses on both sides, boats everywhere and people. Some are sailing, some are kayaking, some are sitting in their docked boats and doing nothing but growing their beer bellies. It’s like being on a ride at Disneyland. You get a snapshot of people’s lives and it’s fascinating.

Renting kayaks is surpringly easy. There is no “training” of any kind they just hand you a lifevest and a paddle and off you go. That might also be because every time I walk up to the check in desk (see hut with grass roof below) I always tell them I know what I’m doing.

Yesterday though, I ate a little humble pie floating banana-style.

Kayak guy with HOT HOT washboard abs wearing nothing but board shorts: Hey you’ve been here before right?
Me: *looking at abs* Yes, but not this year. I think I’m going to start slow.
(side note, extreme shoulder pain from overdoing kayaks is not to be believed)

Washboard Abs Guy: Oh okay, we have maps
Me: I don’t need one, I’m not going out very far, maybe an hour.

WAG: Cool. You pay when you get back, same as before. I just need your driver’s license in the meantime.
Me: *forks it over*

I didn’t take the map. I didn’t even glance at it. I’ve only been kayaking in Long Beach a handful of times with my sister and we always went straight up the first channel and then turned around and went back because my sister doesn’t share my ginormous man shoulders or my freakish peasant strength.

Flashforward 20 minutes and I have already reached the the turning point it usually takes me 30 minutes to get to with my sister. If I turn around now I’m only going to use 40 minutes of my one hour rental which I’m paying $8 for no matter what. (CK is cheap).

So I decide to keep going since I know I’m on some kind of water loop. I row past a lifeguard on the shore (he was wearing a shirt. jerk.) I shouted “Hey, how long do you think it takes to row around the island? Shirted-lifeguard shouts back “I dunno, an hour? Hour and a half maybe?”

I decide to go for it.

You’re wishing you had an image right? See pic below…

See the black square on the sand at the bottom? That’s where the kayak rental place is. The pathetic I-tried-to-make-an-x at the top is where I talked to Lifeguard guy.

Did you read all the text in the bubbles? I had no idea any of those things were a possibility because in the 3 years I’ve been going to this place I’ve never actually read a map.

See the black line that goes over the starbucks bubble and turns the corner. That’s right near the Long Beach Yacht Club. That was the point at which I realized I had noooo idea where I was. Since I like to rent nature by the hour and am 100% girl I did what any intelligent chick would do in those circumstances. I pulled my blackberry out of the ziplock bag I’d brought along to hold my keys, kleenex, and cash and called Kayaks on the Water.

Me: Hi, I just passed the Long Beach Yacht Club and I’m passing the Navy yacht club on my left, how far am I from you guys?
(side note: the sky was looking very dark and forbidding and I was wearing shorts and a tshirt.)
Phone guy: I have no idea.

Me: This is Kayaks on the water right?
Phone guy: yes

Me: Well, I’m sitting in one of your kayaks, floating on the water so I’m kind of hoping you know where I am.
Phone guy: We have maps.

Me: (getting slightly irritated) and clearly I didn’t look at the map because I’m an idiot. However, I am passing the Navy Yacht Club.
Phone guy: I don’t think there *is* a navy yacht club (now he’s using the uber-patient voice).

Me: *looks over at the sign that clearly says Navy Yacht Club and shakes her head wondering if this guy has ever been on a kayak* You know what? let me call you back.
Phone guy: well I might not be here

Me (internally) WHAAAAT?
Phone guy continues: Well, we’re not closed yet so good luck.

I hung up on him. It was very clear I wasn’t the only idiot in that phone call. I figured it was a really good time to point out that it was my own fault. *sigh*

I floated there for a second watching the water lap up against the sides of the kayak and tried to get my bearings. Was the ocean on my left? I was still in a channel so I had no idea. Regardless I decided to pick up the pace a bit having wasted almost 10 minutes trying to figure out where I was as the sky darkened further.

About 15 minutes of moderate rowing later I reached the beach where you rent the kayaks. I’m sorry to say I didn’t actually enjoy those last 15 minutes because I was too busy staring up at the sky and trying to figure out where I was using landmarks around me that I’d never seen before.

It’s probably as close to competing with Lewis and Clark as I’m ever likely to get since I’m not a fan of dysentary. (I still love that Oregon Trail game though it’s one of the fondest memories of my childhood. LOL.)

It wasn’t until I’d rowed up to the beach, had gotten out of my kayak, put away the paddle and lifejacket (which, incidentally I never wear anyway), that I discovered I’d only been out for 45 minutes. This meant, of course, that I still paid for 15 extra minutes I didn’t use. Rats!

The cool part was that the water route which was supposed to take between an hour and an ninety minutes took me 45 minutes flat. Including the ten minutes I tried to figure out where the hell I was and what I was doing. Apparently I’m all kinds of tough and didn’t know it. Awesome.

The reward? I impressed the hell out of Kayak guy with HOT HOT washboard abs wearing nothing but board shorts who apparently noticed that I left in one direction, returned from the other and had only been out for 45 minutes. Go me.

When I asked him who answered the phone it turned out the guy who owns the kayak rental place has it set up to call him on a cellphone elsewhere. For all I know he lives in Oregon, I didn’t ask.

But I impressed washboard abs guy. **WOOT**

Some people have sex dreams. Steamy dreams involving

Hollywood heartthrobs

ripped athletes or

gorgeous male supermodels.

I dream about

Yes, I dream about Oompa Loompas.

More specifically I had a dream last night where I started running the Disneyland half marathon in a cute pink skirt and top combo which was perfect with my Heidi Klum body and luscious blond hair (I am a proud brunette). I ended the race as Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate factory and it took six Oompa Loompas to roll me across the finish line.

Um…yeah.