Muffin Top(ple) Monday

Hello there! My name is Amy, and I'm yet another guest blogger while Mollie is away, sunning herself on the beach and hopefully not contracting swine flu! Yikes! You can usually find me over at Just A Titch but I told Mollie I'd help her out while she is away. Like our previous lovely guest blogger, I met Mollie through our Operation Muffin Top(ple) group, a lovely group of girls trying to get skinny.

As part of my personal mission to get thinner, I signed up for a new gym. No, this isn't just a typical gym: it has classes and trainers and you have to work with other people. This, my friends, is where I've found a problem.

Pretty sure I've gone twice, and everybody hates me.

The truth is, I'd hate me too. Here's why: I'm the fat, slow kid. Don't get me wrong---I've been picked last for many a game of dodgeball and all that, seeing as how I've always been a little on the fat side and a lot on the non-atheletic side. The first day I went to the gym, my girlfriend came with me, so it wasn't so bad. She and I paired up to complete a billion arm exercises and speed wasn't an issue. The next day, this was not the case. We were expected to do Agility Drills in groups. And let me tell you what: I DRAGGED DOWN THE ENTIRE GROUP. Badly. If your team is only as strong as your weakest link, with me on your team, you are SCREWED. Big time. Everyone tried to be nice as they lapped me and gently scooted me over so they could leap over things or zig zag around cones as I huffed and puffed, but I could tell they were wondering who let the fatty in to ruin their workout.

In case you're wondering, no, I am not the *least* bit paranoid.

Still, I did my thing, and damn, I was sore afterwards. My crowning glory moment came when we were split into two large groups and had to alternate running with ab exercises. Basically, if you were crunching, you had to work until everyone came back from running a quarter mile lap.

Guess who got eye daggers as she dragged her fat ass in from that lap?

The good news is that I don't care. They can hate me as much as I want to, but I'll still be showing up, if not only to screw up their workout. And someday, when I'm thin and hot, I'm totally going to lap a fatty.

Another Guest Post You Say: Mollie must be on Holiday

Hi there, I'm LizSara and I blog over at If Music Be. Mollie told me to tell you that I'm guest blogging for her while she is (and I quote) "sunning my ass on the sand like a beached whale and can't roll my way to a computer to blog lol"

So here I am.

I met Mollie (in the same way as Lisa) through Operation Muffin Top(ple). When she asked for guest posters I jumped at the chance because OMT has been such a great expereince for all of us so far I wanted to do something for her. I'm all about spreading the blog love you know.

Anyhoodle, I was going to post about what OMT has been doing for me but you've already had one of those posts from the delectable Lisa, so instead I am going to tell you why I am the polar opposite of Mollie and why that doesn't matter because when you blog you get friends because of who you are, not what you've done in life.

See I was always a bit of a slut-in-training when I was at school. I stared smoking when I was 13 and drinking not long after. I was never off the rails, I always came home on time and never talked back to my Mum (oh yes, I say that because I'm English sorry should have mentioned that part too) and I was always at school when I was supposed to be, but my social life wasn't exactly how my family thought it was.

If Mollie was the white sheep of her family I was definitely the murky grey one of mine.

When I left home at 17 I did it because I wanted to have a greater freedom than living with my family would allow. So I moved in with a boyfriend and some friends, got engaged and then slept around the town I lived in until my relationship broke up. I spent the majority of my university years doing much the same thing, always looking for the next high.

By the time I hit 24 I was bored with that lifestyle, and wanted to settle down so I moved in with a guy who was an alcoholic, left my friends 50 miles away and tried to be a Stepford Wife.

You can guess how that turned out can't you?

Fast forward to now, I'm 31, I live alone, I have the greatest boyfriend that I don't get to se nearly enough because he lives 100 miles away, hardly any friends through total fault of my own and I am finally living the fiscally responsible, sensible life my family always wanted for me.

Do I want to break out sometimes...of course I do, you can never change your personality, only which bits of it you show to the world.

So I say, through experience; Live the life that makes you happy, not the one that makes them happy, whoever they are and you won't go far wrong. You can make friends with whomever you choose, you only need to know what they're like as a person, not have shared experiences with them...sometimes it's those people who make the worst friends.

Life is all about what you do with it, you, only you can make yourself happy

Much love

Mwah

The importance of motivation

What’s up, Peeps! My name is Lisa, infiltrating Mollie’s blog while she’s sunning herself on a rock in paradise. If you want to check out my blog, you can mosey on over to Just Lisa, No Filler. It's the story of me, my husband Wylee, our daughter The Allie Cat, and our struggle to add a fourth one to the mix.

I know the crazy cat lady from this thing called Operation Muffin Top(ple). It’s a group of awesome ladies that are trying to lose some weight. I’ve been struggling to lose weight for years, starting with an event that happened when I was still young and single. I was on a date, and while I was at the restaurant, wolfing down my cheese tortellini, I noticed that my date was staring at me. Did I have alfredo sauce dripping down my chin? Was there a bit of cilantro stuck between my teeth?

“What’s the matter?” I asked, self-consciously dabbing my napkin around my mouth.

“You’re quite pretty,” he answered, carefully observing me. “You would look sensational if you worked out.”

There it was, right smack in front of my face. The classic “you-have-a-pretty-face” syndrome. The nice way of saying, “Your butt’s getting too big for the chair.”

Don’t worry. There was no second date.

The very next day, I went to a local gym and asked for a tour. I was really hoping for a tour guide who resembled an Adonis, like in the movies, but unfortunately I ended up with Barbie’s twin. I could give this woman the twenty pounds that I wanted to lose and she still would have been the skinniest girl I had ever seen.

“OK, let’s go!” Barbie said in her best cheerleader voice. “This is the best decision you’ve ever made! Let’s get started!”

For me, the key to working out is the proper motivation, and I have to say that I would be much more motivated to go through the pain and torture of working out if I had a golden boy with the arms of Brett Favre and the chest of Tito Ortiz encouraging me along. “I’m really not ready to make a commitment,” I said. “I just want to look around and see if this is the right place for me.”

Barbie just giggled at this. “Looking around isn’t going to make those hips any smaller, Silly.”

Sigh. I was defeated.

Barbie took me around to each machine and showed me how everything worked. She made me do as many reps as I could on each machine and then set goals for me to increase my levels of strength and endurance. Then she measured every possible area of my body, pinched muscles that I didn’t even know I had, and figured out my body fat (something that I will never share, even with you).

I noticed throughout the tour that there were women everywhere. Large women, small women, young women, old women, pretty women, not so pretty women, women, women, women. I felt like a demented Dr. Seuss. Where were all the guys? “Excuse me,” I said to my spandex-clad tour guide, “Is there a certain time when there will be more, um, guys?”

Barbie could barely contain her laughter. “There isn’t going to be any guys here,” she managed between giggles. “Didn’t you know? This gym is for women only.”

That was the last time I stepped foot into a gym. Like I said, motivation is an important thing for me. I absolutely have to have something to look at as I sweat. And if Adonis isn’t going to be there, I have to move on.

Yeah, my hips are getting a little big. But hey, I’m married now! Joke’s on Wylee!

(Thanks for letting me play, Mollie! Hope you're having a great vacation! ~Lisa)

Muffin Top(ple) Monday

It's week 3 of Operation Muffin Top(ple) and I'd love to say I've had huge success but that would sadly be a big fat lie, which would match my big fat ass.

I have done relatively good though. I've been eating more healthy and exercising more, but still have no real weight loss to speak of. I'm sure it didn't help that I ran out of my thyroid medicine and didn't get it filled until over a week later. Nothing puts the kibosh on dropping pounds quite like an under active thyroid. But as far as actual pounds lost, it just hasn't happened.

Saturday Matthew and I did a bit of a juice fast. We stocked up Naked Juice and had that for breakfast and lunch, then did taco salad for dinner. Saturday afternoon we walked to an art festival in downtown Mobile. It was 1.3 miles each way, plus we walked around for about an hour so I figure I got in 3 miles of walking this weekend. I'll blog about the festival later.

I'd planned on doing the 30 Day Shred this week until I left for vacation on Thursday but in the last block home Saturday I twisted my ankle so now I will be taking it easy instead. I plan to do a butt load of walking up and down the beach in Puerto Vallarta and I'd rather not limp the entire time.

So that's it for the diet & exercise update. Now we're going to talk about something else.

Saturday afternoon as Matthew and I were getting ready to leave the Arts Alive festival to come back home we ran into two old friends of his from high school. The guys were twins, dressed alike. Apparently they were freshman when Matthew was a senior so that would make them 21(ish), still entirely too old to be matching. But that's just my opinion.

Anyway. They guys and Matthew were super excited to have run into each other and did the "OMG wow it's been forever, it's so good to see you, how've you been" thing. Matthew introduced me to them (as his girlfriend *giggle*) and they chatted for a few minutes more.

You may be wondering what in the world any of this has to do with Muffin Top(ple) Monday. Just stick with me, we'll get there.

There were lots of Awesome! and Super Great! going on from the twins. These two guys were way uber exuberant, to the point that it was making me uncomfortable and I was on the verge of telling Matthew we needed to get going. I don't believe I've ever seen any one person so intensely excited to see another person before in my life, much less two. They finally wrapped up and Matthew and I started walking home.

Well when we got a few blocks down the street I asked him, "uhh honey, what was wrong with those guys?".

He looked at me, confused. "What do you mean what's wrong with them?".

"Well, are they, like, you know, slow, or something? They way they were acting was just weird. Not... normal."

Turns out one of the guys was valedictorian of his senior class. They were super smart, super friendly and apparently always super excited about life.

I'll cut out the nasty parts, where I imitated *read - made fun of* his friends and he got pissed at me, and I ended up walking home alone and skip to the point of this post.

Something about the way those guys acted bothered me. And for some unknown reason I felt the uncontrollable need to imitate them. At the time I wasn't thinking of what I was doing as 'mocking' or 'making fun of' them, but in reality that is what I was doing and my honey, defender of humanity that he is, called me out on it. The result was not pretty.

I didn't consciously intend to make fun of his friends, and him calling me out on doing exactly that had the effect of making me feel like a big steaming pile of pewp. For years I've always gotten angry when I heard people making fun of someone for the way they looked, or dressed. Making fun of the mentally handicapped is sure to get me steamed and I will call you out on being an ass. So for him to call me out on an action that I so intensely disliked from others struck a nerve.

Then on the way home karma had her bitchy way with me and I tripped on an uneven piece of sidewalk and fell flat on my face, scratching my hands up and bruising my knee.

In spite of me being a total jerk, when I came in crying Matthew went right to the medicine cabinet and proceeded to gently doctor me up. Then he held me while I sobbed my little heart out because I felt awful about being a jerk. God has truly blessed me with this man.

So how in the world does this tie into Muffin Top(ple) Monday?

Let me tell you..

When I first signed up for Operation Muffin Top(ple), I was directed to this blog post. For the purposes of this post, I want you to scroll about 3/4 down the page and look at the picture of women who are exhibiting obvious signs of Muffin Top malady. I'll wait for you.

When I saw those pictures and read the post I reacted in two ways.

1. I thought - man someone should tell those poor girls they're wearing the wrong size.

2. I thought - people probably think the same thing when they see me.

What I didn't do, in spite of thinking how similar my full length photos look to those, is think how wrong it was. The incident this weekend brought me back to those photos. And THAT is where this all ties in together.

I'm not entirely certain what it was about those two guys that bothered me so much. I have no idea why I felt a need to make fun of them, however unintentionally, but what I do know is that poking fun at the expense of another is never ever EVER OK.

To be as huge as it is, the Internet can at times be a very very small place. What if those women blog? What if they happened across the blog where their photos are plastered all over a post as a 'motivation tool' to diet and exercise so you don't end up looking like them??

How would they feel? How would I feel? How would you feel?

I know I'd feel horrible. I may act all tough but my self-esteem is more often than not only a few flushes away from being in the crapper. Seeing my picture on a blog emphasizing how someone didn't want to end up looking would result in some pretty severe self-depreciation.

So what is it about things that make us uncomfortable in other people that lends to thinking it's ever ok to make fun of them? Now you may be saying "Aw come on Mollie, it was just an example, it's not like anyone is really getting picked on. It's not like those chics know their pictures are on the web being used as an example of why not to eat Twinkies".

But what if they did? And even if they don't and never do, so what. Why does that make it OK? It doesn't. I was so horribly disappointed in myself when I realized that regardless of what I thought I was doing, I actually was making fun of those guys. I can't stand those kinds of people, so to have it smack me square in the face that I was being one - not OK.

It all comes down to self-image. Those guys were super excited to see my boyfriend. But instead of being happy that my man is so fantastic that after not seeing him for four years someone would be that stoked to run into him, I was bothered by their exuberance. I am a fairly calm, mellow, laid back kind of person. My passions run deep, but they run deep quietly.

During our argument about my, to quote @iamdiddy, 'bitchassness' behavior Matthew made the comment "Well they're my friends and I accept them for who they are". So why couldn't I? I actually said something along the lines of "Well I just wouldn't be able to hang out with someone like that".

Like that?

Like what? Happy? Full of joy? Loud? Not normal?

Who the hell am I to say what's normal or not? Most people think I'm not normal because I play life so close to the vest and am usually entirely too serious. But that's just me. That's how I am. Loud and boisterous is how those guys are. Overweight and wearing too small shirts is, at least at that particular moment, how the women in those pictures were.

I think I've strayed a bit but the whole thing just really got me thinking.

"They're my friends and I accept them for who they are."

Is the reason we have such a hard time doing that to people who we view as odd, or different, or whatever kind of characteristic that stands out to us as not 'OK', because maybe we don't accept ourselves as who WE are so we point out the flaws in others to compensate?

It's definitely something to think about.

Someone who points out and pokes fun at the differences in people is not the kind of person I want to be.

When I told Matthew he shouldn't be with me, that he deserved someone better because I wasn't a good person, he said this - "You're as good as you want to be". Then he told me was with me because he WANTED to be, regardless of whether I thought he should be or not.

So I guess the next step is figuring out just how good of a person I want to be and start working on getting there. Then thank God each and every day for blessing me with such an incredibly wonderful man.

Take two aspirin and meet me in the bedroom

Today we're going to talk about sex.

My favorite part of being in a relationship.

Ok, my most favorite part is spending time with my wonderful boyfriend, but sex is a very close second. I love you honey! ^_^

I whined in my last post that Jillian Michaels is kicking my ass doing her 30 Day Shred workout. That woman is a machine when it comes to working out. The girl is unstoppable.

Well I'm kind of like that when it comes to sex.

I love sex.

A LOT.

I've come to realize that maybe my sex drive is a bit above average for a woman. Hell it's probably above average for a man. My sex drive would in fact probably put the energizer bunny to shame. I would be perfectly happy to have sex every single day. Morning sex, afternoon sex, before bed sex. Heck even brunch and before dinner sex.

When my ex-fiance and I first got together it was like having a newborn. We had sex like every 2 hours, every night. If we went to bed at say 10pm, we'd have sex before going to sleep, then wake up at midnight and have sex again, then around 2am, 4am, and then again when woke up to begin getting ready for work.

This lasted for a good six months until the lack of sleep started catching up with me and sheer exhaustion demanded more than 3-5 hours of sleep each night. After that we toned it down a bit but still had sex every night, usually once in the middle of the night and when we woke up. On the weekends it wasn't uncommon to be watching TV and just go at it in the middle of the day. We pretty much had sex at least once a day every single day for the entirety of our relationship. We were together for three years.

Now Matthew isn't quite the horny little bunny that I am and we also work opposite schedules so it's often hard to find time to fit in as much lovin' as I'd like. I work 8am-5pm, he works 1am-9am so when I'm home he's at work and vice verse. When I get home from work he's normally only been asleep for a few hours. I wake him up around 8pm so we can have dinner together and just spend that time enjoying each other's company. Then I go to bed at 10pm and he lays down with me to get a couple more hours sleep before work.

We are both off on the weekend so I've pretty much issued a mandate that lovin' will be had on those days. And he's more than happy to oblige. And he obliges well, if you know what I mean- wink.

There has been the rare occasion in the middle of the week where I'll come home from work and attempt to wake him up for a little lovin'. Some times I get what I want, some times I get "but honey I'm tireddddd". Which brings me to today's topic.

A few weeks ago my boss was being more grumpy than usual and one of the guys in the office and I were chatting about it, wondering what had brought on the increased sourness in his mood. I made the joke that maybe he wasn't getting any at home.

My co-worker replied that it was more likely the opposite and his wife giving him hell about it was probably what was responsible. He went on to inform me that the media had it all wrong. Movies and TV shows portrayed men always wanting to get it on, and women always having headaches, but in reality men just didn't really need it that much and it was women who were the sex fiends.

I think it's important to note that my co-worker is a healthy viable 25yr old male. He and his girlfriend live together. He's fit and handsome, she's gorgeous with a great body. He said that more often than not he tries to beat his girlfriend to bed so he can pretend to be asleep when she comes in, because if he's awake when she gets in bed he's almost certainly going to have to 'put out'.

You know how Scooby Doo tilts his head to the side when he's confused? That was me right about this point in the conversation. The rest of it went something like this.

I asked him,

"Do you just not like sex?".

"No, I love sex. I enjoy it."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Guys just don't need it that much. We'd rather be sleeping"

Do huh?

When did this role reversal happen? When did the universe flip upside down and women take on the role of sexual aggressors and men fill the 'honey I'm too tired' roles?

Have movies, magazines and TV always had it wrong? Is there some master conspiracy to make women think that men are just horn dogs when they could really care less if they get any or not? Or to make men think women are more often than not going to 'have a headache', so they may as well resign themselves to alone time in the bathroom with a good 'article' from Penthouse?

Or do I just live in some randomly freakish rip in the solar system where my boyfriend and the men I work with wish their women didn't think of them as sex machines? Matthew has actually said those very words to me when I asked him if I could 'get some loving'. "Gosh honey, I'm not a sex machine". He says he can 'love on me' without always having to 'sex me up'.

And he's right. Spending time cuddled on the couch wrapped in each others arms is in its own way just as satisfying as some really great sex. Sometimes even more so.

But that doesn't mean I wouldn't still like to be getting 'sexed up'. ;-)

Anyway, what's your take on this? Men, women... I'd like to hear your thoughts.

Fellas:

Are you really OK with just getting it every once in a while or do you wish your chic would buy stock in Tylenol and get over the 'headache'?

Ladies:

How often would you like your man to 'sex you up'? Once a day? Once a week? A couple of times a month?

I know I can't be the only closet nymph out there.

Can I?

*crickets chirping*

Muffin Top(ple) Monday

Yea yea I know it's Tuesday, but I wasn't feeling well yesterday and spent most of the day with my head under the covers so I'm playing catch up.

So I did great with the walking thing for 2 whole days. Then I woke up late one day and didn't have time to exercise before work and that's all she wrote.

It's amazing to me how easy it is to get OUT of shape and how incredibly little motivation or effort it takes, but how extremely difficult and time consuming it is to get IN shape. Personally I think it should be the other way around. Being in shape should just be the way of things, and you'd have to work really hard at getting fat and lazy. Once upon a time I could jog a mile with relative ease. And by relative ease I mean being slightly winded at the end but not doubled over gasping for breath, which is how you'd have found me after this morning's workout.

I got up at 6am and did day 1 of the 30 Day Shred with Jillian Michaels.

Jillian Michaels, winning trainer on NBC's The Biggest Loser, helps you lose big – up to 20 pounds in 30 days! Her 30 Day Shred DVD includes three 20-minute circuit-training workouts that burn mega calories and build strong, lean muscle. Each level contains a 20-minute workout based on Jillian's exclusive 3-2-1 Strength/Cardio/Ab training circuit: 3 minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio, and 1 minute of ab work. There's also a brief warm-up session and a cool down stretch. Follow Jillian's program for 30 days and you will see amazing results!

You can buy this DVD on her website for $10 or if you have Comcast, you can get it for free on OnDemand. I have Comcast. Yay Me.

I need to lose a lot of weight. Any toned muscle I once had has long since turned to flab so I figured just walking in place, however energetic the walking, probably wasn't going to get me the results I wanted. At least not in this decade.

So I decided to turn it up. The intensity of my work out that is. When I starting typing that sentence I was originally typing 'turn up the..' but couldn't figure out how to finish it. Changing the wording of the sentence didn't stop one of the cheesiest 80's songs of all time from popping into my head.

"Pump up the volume, pump up the volume, pump up the volume.
Dance! Dance!"

Sorry, I had to share the torture.

Moving on.

So I thought the 10 minute mile I did last week was a decent work out. It got my heart rate up, accelerated my breathing and I broke a little sweat doing it. Psh!

Half way through Jillian's 20min shred I was gasping for breath and holding on to whatever hope I could find that my arms wouldn't disconnect from my body, fall off and flop on the floor. Ole Girl Kicked. My. Ass.

After finishing the workout and peeling myself off the floor, I managed to roll up my yoga mat and drag my butt to the shower. Barely. I may or may not have fully bathed. I couldn't keep my eyes open and it took every bit of concentration I had to try and return my breathing to normal so I know I got wet and I know I got soapy but that's about all I recall of this morning's shower.

I knew I was out of shape, but damn. If the workout I got this morning is even half the crap she puts those tubbies through on The Biggest Loser no wonder they're dropping 10-15 pounds a week!

Her claim is you can lose up to 20lbs in 30 days by doing this workout program. I don't know much my arms weigh, but I imagine them falling off would be close to, if not a few pounds more than 20, so this video just might live up to it's promise.

The good news is - in spite of the piece of cake I had at my niece's birthday party slash Easter egg hunt and the brownie I had at Matthew's mom's Sunday evening, my scale says I've dropped just under 4lbs since Friday. And that was BEFORE I let Jillian beat me like Mommie Dearest. I'm going to do my best not to weigh again until Friday, but I imagine if I can keep up with the 30 Day Shred I'll have dropped a few pounds by then. Or at least an appendage.

Beautiful you..

"Honey there is nothing sexy about my rolls."

Let me clear up any possible confusion, that statement has nothing to do with bread.

Matthew is often telling me how sexy he thinks I am. How much he loves 'all of me', just the way I am.

I am often contradicting him, telling him he's crazy, that there is just nothing even remotely attractive about fat.

There's this song I've been hearing on the radio lately that I love. I know all the words, I sing along and dance in the car when it comes on, but for some reason until this morning I apparently haven't really been hearing it.

If you've been around my blog the last few days then you know that I've joined up with a group of fellow bloggers/tweeters in a friendly competition to lose our muffin tops.

What is a muffin top?



That thing hanging out between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her pants.

Maybe it's the new found determination to get back into shape and improve my health, maybe it's that I have a wonderful man at home who never fails to make me feel loved, or maybe it was just the right time for the lyrics of that particular song to click into place but whatever it was, it got me thinking.

Who was it that made me feel less than beautiful because I have a little extra to love? Ok so I have a lot extra. But so what. Right?

I had to do a little digging and if you're one of those people (like me) who cringe at the site of a little cellulite you may want to prepare yourself, but I finally found some pictures that show just how far we've come - or fallen - in the idea of what is and isn't beautiful.

Here are 3 paintings from the Renaissance period, I believe.

The Three Graces
Charites, known in Greek mythology as The Three Graces, goddesses of such things as charm, beauty, and creativity.

These women were considered beautiful. Heck the first painting reflects women who were thought to be goddesses. Goddesses of charm, beauty and creativity! They are NOT stick thin size 6 women. Hell they're not even size 8 women. More likely they were closer to a 14-16. They have tummies, and thick thighs. They have curves and shape. And they were beautiful. They were art!

So what happened? When did we, society start thinking that 'thin was in'? And when did we, women start believing that rubbish?

I'm the first to say that I don't find fat attractive. Seeing myself naked is enough to threaten my lunch to return from whence it came. Yet my boyfriend finds me beautiful. He enjoys my naked body, rolls and all. Just last night I was in the kitchen cooking and he came up behind me and slid his arms around my waist and told me how awesome I was, while rubbing up and down on my tummy.

I'm not, nor have I ever been attracted to heavier guys, even though I'm far from small myself. My ex-fiance gained a good bit of weight after we'd been together a while and seeing his body go from relatively fit to flabby completely turned me off.

Why?

Was it that seeing his flab reminded me of my own? Was it that I'd been conditioned to buy into the crap that in order to be attractive, sexy, handsome, you have to be a certain size or shape?

I've never been "thin", have honestly never wanted to be. I'm perfectly ok, happy even being a thick chic. But there's 'thick' and then there's 'fat'. And fat is where I feel I am now. Fat is what makes me want to turn out the lights when the clothes come off and the lovin' comes on. Fat is what makes me stand in front of my closet dreading having to find something that camouflages my 'muffin top' and back fat.

But to the man who loves me - I am perfect just the way I am. I am beautiful.

That's where the song ties into all this. It talks about a little girl, and then a young woman who've bought into the crap the media feeds us that we have to look a certain way to be beautiful, then the chorus says "There can never be a more beautiful you... You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do. So there could never be a more beautiful you."

So I'm issuing a challenge, and it's one I'm going to take myself. Tonight when you get home, or tomorrow when you get up - get undressed and stand in front of a mirror. Oh Shut up, it will not crack, break or shatter. And yes you DO have one big enough. But look at yourself. Look at yourself in the way that someone who loves you does. See what they see.

I'm not in the best shape I've ever been in and my need to lose weight is more based on health issues than worrying about my appearance, but I'm just as guilty of looking in the mirror and feeling ugly because my body doesn't look how I'd like it to. But in spite of my extra jiggle and the rolls that have nothing to do with dinner er ok, mostly to do with dinner, but you know where I was trying to go with that - for those who are like ummm huh?

Get it - rolls...dinner..
Dinner rolls

ok where were we?

Right, naked. Naked and beautiful. Because no matter what size you are, how much cellulite you have, if you've been guilty of stuffing your extra top stomach into your pants so you look like you have some sort of a waist line You ARE BEAUTIFUL.

God created you for a specific purpose. You have a reason for being on this earth, a place that no one else can fill. So if you need to drop a few pounds to feel better about yourself, or get in better health that's one thing, but if you're starving yourself and dragging ass at the gym every morning because you think losing a bit of fluff around the middle will make you 'prettier' then give yourself a swift kick in the ass sister. Drag yourself to a mirror and say these words...

I AM BEAUTIFUL. JUST AS I AM.

NOW BELIEVE IT.

Because it's true

More Beautiful You

Little girl fourteen flipping through a magazine
Says she wants to look that way
But her hair isn’t straight her body isn’t fake
And she’s always felt overweight

Well little girl fourteen I wish that you could see
That beauty is within your heart
And you were made with such care your skin your body and your hair
Are perfect just the way they are

There could never be a more beautiful you
Don’t buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through
You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do
So there could never be a more beautiful you

Little girl twenty-one the things that you’ve already done
Anything to get ahead
And you say you’ve got a man but he’s got another plan
Only wants what you will do instead

Well little girl twenty-one you never thought that this would come
You starve yourself to play the part
But I can promise you there’s a man whose love is true
And he’ll treat you like the jewel you are

So turn around you’re not too far
To back away be who you are
To change your path go another way
It’s not too late you can be saved
If you feel depressed with past regrets
The shameful nights hope to forget
Can disappear they can all be washed away
By the one who’s strong can right your wrongs
Can rid your fears dry all your tears
And change the way you look at this big world
He will take your dark distorted view
And with His light He will show you truth
And again you’ll see through the eyes of a little girl

Muffin Top(ple) Monday

Operation Muffin Top(ple)- Day 1

5:45am the alarm goes off

I hit snooze

5:54am the alarm goes off

I hit snooze again

Rinse and repeat

At 6:15am I finally drag my butt out of bed and shuffle into the living room, wiping sleep from my eyes.

Grabbing the remote I click the OnDemand button and scroll down the menu until I get to the exercise and fitness channel. For the next ten minutes Leslie Sansone and I exuberantly, ok she exuberantly, stomped out one mile in my living room. The guys and gals on the video had a variety of weights to increase the intensity of the 'workout'. Anything from free weights, waist bands, elastic string looking things to weighted balls. I had oranges.

For weights, I held the oranges for my weights.

Surprisingly enough, you can build up a decent sweat in ten minutes. It's not like you just stand there and walk in one place. You do knee lifts, kick backs and side steps. Not to mention ol' girl is trucking it. This ain't no leisurely stroll around the neighborhood type walk. Throw in lifting your arms in every direction (with my orange weights) and you get a decent little work out.

Once upon a time I could jog a mile without being winded. Those days are long gone, so I'm starting slow, building up my endurance again so I don't burn out and give up. I figure I'll do the walk for a week, then try to move on to the one mile jog. I know that seems like a lofty aspiration but jogging in place (sort of) has to be a little easier than running around the block. Here's hoping anyway. But if not, I can always slow it down to a brisk walk until I catch my breath, or the swelling goes down in my eyes from beating my face in with my boobs. Which ever comes first.

Healthy eating is another part of this quest, but I'm sure I've bored you enough with my workout recap so I'll save the food stuff for later.

I have to say, as much as I resisted getting up early, after doing my little exercise this morning I felt really good. I also felt proud, after months of doing nothing but whining about how fat my ass is getting it feels really awesome to be doing something about it.

I also have to give a HUGE thank you to my honey Matthew FKA The Editor. He is and has been an incredible support, lifting me up and encouraging me to get active and take the right steps to get healthy.

Soon we'll be busting out that 15 Minute Hell video together like it's a walk in the park.

Operation Muffin Top(ple)

In December of last year I blogged briefly about getting back in the swing of working out and eating healthy. I talked about how I wasn't going to make a new year's 'resolution' to get in shape, but instead a New Life Resolution, changes to my life that would help me get back into the shape of my mid-twenties or just more healthy than I currently was (am).

It's the beginning of April and I'm embarrassed to admit that I've failed miserably. I worked out ehh twice. Once with Matthew and once by myself. After several years being carbonated beverage free, I've picked up drinking pop again (soda or coke for your southerners), and have gone from eating fast food once or twice a month to once a week. At least.

Add that to one of the many lovely side effects of Loestrin that my gyno put me on for PCOS and instead of losing weight, I've gained 20lbs. Add those 20 to the 70 I already needed to lose and you have one fat ass Crazy Cat Lady.

Well thank God for blogging, because two fabulous ladies who's blogs I adore have issued a challenge and I'm signing up!

Catherinette and KiKi have put out the word that dunlap disease is simply not acceptable this summer. If you don't know what dunlap disease is, it's when your belly 'dun lapped' over the top of your pants.

Example:

Now to me, this chic is relatively small, her pants are just way to damn tight creating what is also known as the 'Muffin Top'.

I've never been a small girl. I've always been fairly 'thick', but still very fit. I played sports for most of my youth and was very athletic. I've gained and lost a considerable amount of weight (60lbs give or take) twice since the age of 24. I'm back at the gained part of that cycle and I'm not happy.

Here is me in 2003

I don't think I'm being conceited when I say I looked damn good.

Here is me with my sister, b-i-l, and cousin at a concert last August.

I have surpassed the muffin top, and have moved on to the King Cake.

People, I have become a beast. And it is simply NOT acceptable anymore. So I've had Matthew dig up some Tae-Bo torrents and Billy Blanks is now on my computer ready to punch, kick and jab my ass back into some semblance of shape, other than round. But I've realized I can't do it alone. I simply do not have the discipline to drag my butt out of bed at 5:30am to exercise before getting ready for work, and I've tried working out when I get home in the evenings and it is just not for me. I'm tired after working all day. I want to curl up on the couch with my honey and watch tv, not wiggle my jiggle.

Here's where my blog/twitter pals come into play.

This is the welcome e-mail I received after expressing my interest in joining Operation Muffin Top(ple)

Good morning, fellow fatties. You have all expressed interest in participating in Operation Muffin Top(ple)! Kiki and I are delighted to announce that it is in fact in full swing. You can read more about the logistics by going reading the post on The Catherinette Chronicles or I'm Not Kidding.

Remember, this is all in the spirit of fun, and in hopes that we all shed those extra pounds that make us look more like Star Jones' before pics than the after ones.

Here's the skinny on how this is going to go down (twss).

Send the following to muffin.top@gmail.com :

A brief explanation of what you hope to accomplish, gain from this. Example: "I want to lose my fat muffin top so I can parade my slim ass in front of the bar where my ex-boyfriend hangs out and make him feel like an ass for being...well...an ass."

Your favorite recipe for those of us that are trying to lose some weight. Think cocktail recipe. Think cheese. Think chocolate. Recipes will be posted weekly on Monday's.

This part is optional...Submit a funny before pic to muffin.top@gmail.com or send it to 555-555-1234(that's my cell). The pic will NOT be posted. It doesn't have to be a full body shot. It can just be your muffin top, a saddle bag, your chubby fist throwing out those peeps, whatever.

Preferred method of communication: Kiki and I will be sending you "motivational" messages throughout the duration. Let us know if you want those in a text or email.

An idea of what you'd like to contribute to the prize package. We're thinking it would be fun if everyone sent in a little something (cheap) to include in the grand prize. We're thinking peeps, cheetos, something fun, whatever. You tell us.

Our hope is to have a Magical Muffin Giveaway on June 21st. We'll be looking for you to send in after pics along with what you gained (which will hopefully not be more weight) during the experience. Extra points for snarkiness.

If you have any questions, feel free to let us know!!

Let's do this, bitches!

Catherinette

These heifers aren't playing around. I've yet to get my honey to take a full length pic of me to send in, but plan on sobbing my way through that particular joy tonight. I've edited the phone number in the e-mail for privacy but left the Muffin Top(ple) group e-mail in case you want to sign up. The more fatties who sign up, the better the prize! Oh yea and the more support we can be to each other. The real prize will be getting in shape of course, for me anyway. Some of these gals will actually be strutting their stuff in a bikini by summer.

Bitches.

I'm too late to banish the belly rolls in time for my vacation to Puerto Vallarta (in 21 days!!!), so I'm shooting for my birthday instead. June is when the winner will be announced for Operation Muffin Top(ple), but I have a feeling I've got a lot more dunlap to delete than some of the other ladies, so I plan to keep on going until I reach my goal.

If you've been wanting to shake your shimmy and the shimmy be the only thing shaking but just haven't found the motivation to get off the couch then join us and make the only rolls on the beach this summer belong to someone else!