I did get a maybe on yoga, but he added that I should avoid any of the forward bends. (Well, there goes my social life. RIM SHOT. PUN INTENDED!!!) But, errr, isn't 50% of yoga forward bends? What would be the point of going? And there's still a definite NO on personal training and HIIT workouts, and a "change of subject" when I asked about socacize. PHYSICAL THERAPY IS THE DEVIL'S HANDIWORK AND IS RUINING MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. There, I just needed to get that out.
The better news is my eating has been okay. Not great, but I've not resorted to eating McDonald's again. I'd say that 80% of the time I'm eating well and clean and healthy. That other 20% happens when I'm stressed or PMSing or I've breathed in oxygen; these things trigger my desire for Haagen Dazs, pizza, wings and chicken mole tacos from Maya Taqueria on Vanderbilt. OH MY GOD I want one right-the-fuck-now! Sorry, I'm supposed to be focusing on the good.
I'm still making sure I eat breakfast most days; about 99% of the time. Today was the first day I bought take out at work in over a month (and it was just $3.50 for two pieces of jerk chicken and five pieces of plantains from Christie's on Flatbush...although I was so tempted to get a chicken patty with coco bread!). And I've almost completely stopped shopping at Foodtown in order to get fresher food at Trader Joe's. I feel okay about these changes (which seem to have become permanent changes) but I know I could be doing more.
And of course I need to be doing more in terms of eating right because my Nazi physical therapist won't let me train hard. He's all "I'm going to put this on the lightest weight and just give me ten reps real slow." ARGH!! HULK SMASH! I don't even break a sweat! I have to resort to putting the warm-up bike on a super-high resistance and "gunning it" just to feel like I did something. All that beautiful gym equipment and I'm in the therapy room doing pansy-ass leg lifts. LEG LIFTS!
Listen, I'm going away for my birthday, to a place where the sun shines so bright and makes you so happy to be alive. And all I wanted for my birthday was to be able to rock a bikini on the beach like a true badass, as a precursor to playing mas in the West Indian Day parade. This past weekend, I even bought the stupid bikini, and it looks okay as long as I stretch my torso, suck in my gut and never breathe, eat or sit. If I can do that I'll be the sexiest bitch in purple EVER.
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| This photo was Take-100 because I had to make sure and give you the illusion of a fit Jaded body! |
But I wanted to look MORE than okay and time is already running out. YES, I should just follow the therapist's orders and NO I shouldn't be so worried with my looks and instead focus on being healthy, but you know what? I DON'T CARE.
Don't be fooled, folks- I'm in this for the bragging rights. For the pure pleasure of making bitches cry when I walk in the room looking fabulous. If I can bench-press your mom or run up the steps at West 238th Street in Riverdale and not get winded as a result of working out, well, that'd be a nice cherry on top. But on the real? I just want to look fly!
*smooches...having a Come To Jesus meeting with myself*
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the good thing is, I still understand that it will take hard work to look and feel great; no easy outs for me. but sometimes, I do wish there was a pill...
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