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Recap: My first 5K

Skinny Emmie — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 17:30:12 +0000

Yesterday, I finished my first 5K. Woot! I didn’t finish it alone, either. I had a wonderfully supportive group of friends who were there to push me, and who finished with me. I was really overwhelmed with emotion yesterday (and still am today, but have turned the waterworks off), and made a video to thank them all: Anne (with James and Eliot in tow), Heidi, Kristi, Kelly Anne, Elizabeth, Noel, Amber and Trainer Rob. I don’t care that I’m crying like a baby in that video. How can one adequately express gratitude to a group of people who helped push you to a major goal? There are no words.

On my way to pick up Kelly Anne and Elizabeth, it was storming. I was concerned it wouldn’t let up and the race would be cancelled, but thankfully by the time we reached the race destination, the rain had stopped. I met up with my new friends as we got our race numbers on and t-shirts picked up.

Heidi, Me and Kristi

Me and Noel

Shay from The Biggest Loser Season 8, and a major inspiration of mine, was doing meet-and-greets at the Subway tent. Each of us took pictures with her and she was gracious and sweet. I shared a little about me starting at 455 pounds and losing 64 so far, etc. I asked her questions about doing it at home vs. on The Biggest Loser and she said that she has more appreciation for those who do it at home, because they’re not in a sheltered environment. You have real life issues you have to figure out and cope with, instead of being in seclusion focusing ONLY on your weight.

Shay and Me, pre-race

There were brief welcomes and speeches by Shay and others, however we were too far away from the stage to hear it. Soon enough, the gun sounded and we were off! Trainer Rob was hellbent on me doing the race as a high intensity day. I had a goal in my head of finishing under 1 hour, however honestly, I just wanted to finish! We did a 5 minute warm up, then went into high intensity intervals. 1 minute power walk or jog, then 1 minute walk, 1 minute jog, 1 minute walk, 1 minute jog, 5 minutes walk. So, each set is 10 minutes: 3 minutes high, 2 minutes walk in-between, then 5 minutes recovery. I am NOT a runner, and haven’t really done any workouts outside, so the heat and humidity was a lot to take in. I was on the verge of tears at some points when Rob would tell me to jog or power walk. Sometimes I didn’t do it. He kept pushing me to do it. My friends were pushing me. I honestly feel I did the absolute best I could.

The course was BEAUTIFUL. Trees, flowing streams, bridges, corn fields. It really was spectacular.

Around mile 2, we saw Shay with her group of Subway participants up ahead. She was like “You can do it! Come on!” Trainer Rob asked her some questions, and they chatted about crossfit and other ways of training, etc.

After seeing the time clock at mile 2, Trainer Rob knew I could finish in under an hour, so that was a good feeling/motivation in my head, despite that my body was just feeling slow and gross. My pants were falling down when I would jog, and my shirt was too short, and the camisole I wore underneath it was straight polyester and was sticking to me like crazy. Yuck.

When we had about 1/3 of a mile left, Shay came back to finish it with me! Talk about motivation.

Turns out she and I were sharing the same saggy pants story, so I’m glad I wasn’t alone! Somehow, Noel recorded some of our conversation while she was walking backwards. I’ll throw it in at the end of this post.

We rounded a corner and could see the finish line ahead. It was about 1/10 of a mile. Trainer Rob was like “let’s jog it!” so Shay and I went jogging:

Post-Race

I was so happy I wanted to cry. Shay said “hey- go ahead if you want to! It’s weight loss!” But I didn’t. I was too tired! I thanked her again and she took a group photo with us.

Anne, Heidi, Kristi, Kelly Anne, Amber, Trainer Rob, Elizabeth, Me, Shay, Noel. Eliot and James in the stroller.

Some of us all went out to grab breakfast afterwards. It was a great way to cool off and socialize.

Edited to add: Per Noel’s Garmin our time was 58:27. The official race time from the results today was 59:20. It took us a little bit to get to the starting line after letting the runners get off first. I’m fine with either time though

When I got home, I saw this on Twitter:

She DID tell me so. And all of you guys told me so. And the wonderful friends who were with me told me so. And I’m SO.GLAD.

Not sure when the next race will be, but there WILL be one. Right now, I’m just going to be happy with this accomplishment and check it off on my 101 in 1001 list.

Here’s the advice Shay gave me, as well as a photo slideshow.

Weight Loss: Do you have to be brave?

Skinny Emmie — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 01:21:27 +0000

Occasionally I get emails that really make me stop and think about my journey. Recently, I got an email from someone who said she wanted to do the 5K Run/Walk with me, but was scared. It took me a while to think about what to say to her.

In a weight loss journey, do you have to be brave?

I don’t feel particularly brave.

I’m just a girl trying to make a change. This isn’t out of desire or vanity, this is out of necessity. Necessity for life, for living, for health, for myself.

Making a choice to live versus die isn’t brave, it’s logical. At least, right now it seems logical. It took me years of wading through a brain full of fog to figure out, DUH, it is logical!

I don’t think that people who aren’t ready to take a journey aren’t brave. I just think they haven’t figured it out. I went years without “figuring it out,” as I’m sure many of you have. Nothing wrong with that. And nothing wrong with saying so, either.

There are many times that I thought I’d figured it out, when I hadn’t even scratched the surface of what I actually needed to DO in order to be successful. I’m not talking just “eat right and exercise-” that is the easy part. The hard part is figuring out the WHYs behind the weight:

Why do I overeat? Binge? Hide food?
Why do I not feel worthy of living my life?
Why do I not want to be active?
Why am I living my life in fear of what others think?
Why do I feel unworthy?
Why am I so scared of exercise?

Seriously- I could go on and on forever. Do I know all the answers to those questions right now? NO! Do you need them to start your journey? NO!

In the end, the only way you can get started is to take one step. Just one. Then another. And another. That’s all you should ask of yourself, as you’ll learn something from each one of those steps.

No matter where you are in your journey right now, I just want to ask one favor: take a step with me.

Fattie Gets Fit

Skinny Emmie — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 22:36:45 +0000

Note: I originally wrote this post to be a guest post on someone elses blog. After thinking about it, I decided that MY blog is the right place to post it. I haven’t ever flat out said my weight on the blog. I can’t believe I’m about to post it, but you guys have taught me to be much more brave than I ever thought I could be, so here it goes.

455 pounds.

That’s “Biggest Loser” big. Heck, it’s even OVER “Biggest Loser” big for some seasons.
Millions of people watch this television show where the morbidly obese contestants work their way through long journeys of becoming fit. Throw in crazy amounts of sweat, crying, some occasional vomiting and falling off treadmills, and it makes for fantastic television.

What if this was more than a reality show? What if it was YOUR reality?

One year ago, this was MY reality. 455 pounds of a scared 28 year old wondering if this is what her life was destined to be – over before it’s begun. When you’re 455 pounds, the flicker of hope that you have for a healthy, active lifestyle is so dim you could barely recognize it in a pitch black room. Faced with the warnings from others about the health risks of being so large, the snide comments said behind your back but in a voice loud enough for you to hear, you really learn how much (or how little) faith in yourself, and in other people, that you really have.

Fast forward to present day, where I’ve gone through struggles of trying to find out what my motivations are for losing weight, where I try to do everything right and get slapped in the face by the scale. I’ve also had triumphs. First 10 pounds lost. Next 10 pounds lost. The first time someone actually said “wow, you’re losing weight!” The time when I got to throw out all clothes with a size “3” in front of the second digit. When my scale no longer had a “4” as its first number.

One year later, and while the scale only shows 61 pounds gone, the bumpy journey it took me to get here has put me on the straight and narrow road ahead. This road to being skinny, to more weight loss, to smaller clothes, to a head held higher.

In the end, it’s all about being FIT. This past week I joined a gym. I have a trainer. I did Zumba and swam 700 meters in the pool and posted videos about it (in my swimsuit no less!). At 394 pounds, this morbidly obese girl is on her way to becoming fit. There are still haters out there who question my motivation or strength to make it to the finish line. There are people who will do a double take when seeing me walk into an aerobics class. But there are also ones who are encouraging- sharing a kind word or a warm smile that lets me know they’re supporting this fattie getting fit. All it takes is one moment of compassion from a friend or a stranger to let me know that this 255 pound weight loss journey I’m on is much shorter than the marathon I had planned on it being.

So while many of you are on your own super fitness journeys – 5k’s, half marathons, full marathons, triathlons – realize that some of us are waiting in the wings warming up to get ready to join you.

Open your arms and brace for impact. I can’t wait for the day when I too, can be fit.

A Big Decision

Skinny Emmie — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 03:30:22 +0000

It’s been a week since I’ve had my gym membership. I’ve gone 4 times: Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Call it endorphins or whatever, but something about this weight loss journey has got my head in a place of clarity (or insanity).

I’ve almost posted this a couple of times now, but keep deleting the post for fear I would change my mind. When you post something online, there are no takebacks! But, I’m confident in my decision.

I’m giving up my Biggest Loser dream.

From http://www.musicphilosophy.co.uk. I don't remember where I saw this site- maybe another blogger? If it was you, let me know and I'll give you credit!

Ever since seeing Shay on The Biggest Loser season 8, I wanted to be on the show. I thought that it was my chance to be on TV, have people see my struggle and identify with me, and I’d finally be skinny. I poured so much energy and creativity into my season 10 audition tape. I paused my weight loss because I didn’t want to be a different weight than what I put on my application or on my video. I didn’t gain and I didn’t lose. I became completely obsessed, checking my casting director’s Facebook fan page, the Biggest Loser Casting Twitter account, former Biggest Loser blogs. It was consuming. Once I got some positive feedback from casting about my video, the intensity escalated. I just KNEW I was going to get picked.

As we all know, I didn’t get picked. I would never lose weight again. I wouldn’t be a reality TV star. I would continue to live my life over 400 pounds and that was it. I ate a lot right after getting the “not this time” email. I was told to apply for next season (which will start casting early July). I emailed my friends 2 weeks ago and asked them what ideas they had that could top my last video. The insanity was going to start again.

After Zumba last Saturday, I felt calm (and sore). As I checked the new Biggest Loser applications to see if it had changed in the past 3 months, I thought “why the hell does it matter?” Really now. I can do this. I have the blog. I have friends (in real life and virtual friends). I have a great job. I have sponsors that want to help me. I have motivation.

This is BIG for me peeps, BIG. It means I’m giving in: I can do this weight loss and fitness journey. I have support and I have all the tools I need to make myself a success. Why rely on a television show to kick my ass and “make” me lose weight? For the confetti at the end? For the money? For fame? Talk about LAME.

So, I’m pushing on with my weight loss journey without auditioning for The Biggest Loser again. When I’m finished, I’ll expect all of you to come to my house to throw confetti on me as I stand on a livestock scale to get my final weight. M’kay?

…Just Workin’ on My Fitness

Skinny Emmie — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 01:58:12 +0000

Now that you have Fergalicious in your head…

Say hello to Rob!

Lots of things to blog about today! First, I have to announce a new Get Emmie Skinny sponsor. I am so geeked about this, it’s not even funny. Let’s give a big interwebz clap for Rob Silver of Heartfit Lexington – my new personal trainer! *applause* He’s now listed on the Get Emmie Skinny Sponsor page, and you can read more about him there.

Rob is putting me through one of his 12 week training programs which are heart-rate based. This means that instead of me following a prescribed workout routine designed for “anyone,” my training will be based entirely on MY heart rate. I know my fitness level is pretty rock bottom right now, so with Rob focusing on helping me increase my fitness, I am actually more excited than if the primary goal was only to lose weight. I will be able to feel and physically see (via my heart rate monitor) how much I’m progressing. Talk about motivation! Our first session is Saturday morning. Again, I’m geeked.

As 5:30pm approached, I was dreading going to the gym tonight. I knew that I was going to start training with Rob Saturday, so why did I need to go now? Thankfully, some Twitter friends kicked me in the butt and said I should go. I am a sucker for peer pressure. I wriggled into my Aquatard (laugh at the name, if you must) and 10 minutes later (because that’s how long it takes me to get IN the damn thing) I was ready to go:

I can't believe I'm posting this.

Someone tweeted about a 0 to 1 mile swimming program, and I was curious. Similar to Couch-to-5K, it’s a swimming endurance program. I was skeptical that I could finish the routine set out for week 1, which was as follows:

4 X 100 meters, rest 12 breaths between 100s
4 x 50 meters, rest 8 breaths between 50s
4x 25 meters, rest 4 breaths between 25s
Total: 700 meters, or 0.43 of a mile

You know what? I did it!!! Did I take more than 12, 8 or 4 breaths between some of the sets? Heck yeah. Did I do about 100 meters of kickboarding only? Yep. But I did it. *happy dance* Know what else? I did an EXTRA 50 to cool down. So really, I did 0.466 of a mile! One of my 101 in 1001 days goals is to swim a 1/2 mile. It will be checked off my list before you know it!

When I was done, I had pruny fingers to show for it:

Someone said recently that you never regret going to the gym, you only regret NOT going. So. true.

And THEN, as I was driving home, I was surprised at a rainbow that looked like it was over my house. Great way to end the night! (Disclaimer: I am not always this damn happy-go-lucky. I’ll come back to earth sooner or later.)

So why now?

Skinny Emmie — Thu, 27 May 2010 01:04:46 +0000

I got asked this question today and I know many people must think it, but are too shy to ask.

Why weight loss now? What’s different this time?

If you’re going through a weight loss journey right now, have you asked yourself this? Can you answer it concisely? If not, there may be a problem.

I’ve tried to lose weight my whole life. I literally can’t remember back to a time where I wasn’t trying to lose weight. Grow up fat, and it’s ingrained in your head that you’re trying to lose weight- even if you aren’t really trying. When I had my week of shame a while back, in my head, I was telling myself I was still on a weight loss journey.

I really had to think about how to explain to people why this time is different. Why, out of all the hundreds of other times I’ve attempted to lose weight, this time will work. I’ll be honest. Thinking about this make me a freakin’ mess. Am I setting myself up to fail? Am I going to disappoint people if I don’t end up making my goal this time? Am I doomed to live like this forever?

To hell with it. If I disappoint people, I can guarantee them that I’ve disappointed myself even more. Their shame will have nothing on mine. Not that I think I will fail.

So here’s my why:

My mom died at age 50 from Parksinson’s Disease. She spent the last years of her life unable to walk. At my heaviest weight, I never felt like walking. How can someone in their mid-twenties feel so much like someone who should be confined to a nursing home? I sincerely felt that way most days. As I approach my 30th year in this life, I have to own up to myself that only I can make the change. Only I can do this for myself. No one can save me from myself.

In short, this is my life to lose and I’m willing to fight like hell for it.

I’m doing it. I’m doing it now. This time will work, because my life is WORTH living. The life I have now is void of experiences I’ve put off my entire life. Check out my 101 in 1001 list I posted yesterday. The list is FULL of experiences that are dependent upon my weight loss and increased confidence. I refuse to hold my husband back from doing fun things because of my size. I refuse to feel like an outcast in society. I refuse to throw in the towel.

There you go. My reasons.

What are yours? Why is this time different?

Goals: 101 Things

Skinny Emmie — Wed, 26 May 2010 02:27:14 +0000

The desire to put together a list of things has been stirring in me for some time. I love lists. I love crossing things off lists. Talk about SATISFACTION.

via Globetoppers on Flickr

Local photographer Shaun Ring posted something on his blog that made me take action. Here is his description:

The mother of all lists is the 101 in 1001 list. It’s a way to get in writing 101 things you want to accomplish in the next 1001 days. The thinking is this—Instead of having one or two big goals to accomplish in a year (New Year’s anyone?), why not put down everything big and small you can possibly think of, and give yourself almost 3 years to get there?

This 100 in 1001 list is definitely something I could get behind. I have SO.MANY goals. SO.MANY things I want to need to do.

Then I read this post from 146 pounds which asked why we wait to make our Bucket Lists. I ask myself the same thing often, but haven’t acted from that thought.

So, I wanted to share my 101 in 1001 list with you. It’s amazing how 53 of the items of my 101 list are related to my weight. Either directly or indirectly (lacking confidence, lacking the ability to FIT places, etc.) My full list is on DayZeroProject, but my weight loss items are all here on my blog for you to see me cross them off.

Would you ever make a list like this? What would some key items be on it?

Win a $100 Kiyonna Gift Certificate

Skinny Emmie — Thu, 20 May 2010 01:42:38 +0000

Woo!!! Blogaversary celebration is coming to a close, and how else better than to give away a

$100 Kiyonna Gift Certificate!

You guys know I have an obsession with Kiyonna. We’d like to think it’s healthy, but really, it’s pretty sick Their clothes are always impeccably made with curves in mind, in timeless styles and beautiful fabrics. It’s totally a girl crush. Here’s me last week in their Goddess Draped Pencil Skirt and Christy Cardigan.

Just like the other 2 giveaways, this one is easy peasy to enter! Please read instructions thoroughly, so your entry is counted!!!

To enter:

Visit the Kiyonna website and find your favorite piece- remember the name of it.
Go to the Kiyonna Facebook page and “Like” them.
Write on the Kiyonna Facebook wall, “Skinny Emmie sent me to Kiyonna. My favorite piece is (insert name of favorite item from their website).”
Come back here and leave a comment for me that you did the above.

Extra entries:

To win extra entries, you can do the following IN ADDITION TO the entry process above.

“Like” Skinny Emmie on Facebook (or tell me if you already do!)
“Follow” Kiyonna on Twitter (or tell me if you already do!)
“Follow” Skinny Emmie on Twitter (or tell me if you already do!)

Seriously- 5 minutes of internet eye candy and posting and you could win a $100 Gift Certificate to Kiyonna? Piece of (calorie free) cake!

As with all of my giveaways, if you’ve entered before, you can enter again! So hop to it! Entries will be accepted through Wednesday, May 26th at 6pm EST. Good luck!

Weigh In 5.17.10

Skinny Emmie — Mon, 17 May 2010 12:34:41 +0000

Today was weigh in day. I knew I had done pretty good all week with regards to my notes from last weeks disappointing 1.5 pound loss.

I am super happy to report that I lost 4 pounds this past week, for a total of 58 pounds. *happy dance*

It’s amazing how making very tiny adjustments can help propel you forward. I increased my water intake, increased my protein for breakfast and stayed away from any potluck disasters. I was super worried that my 2 beers during a Friday night fundraiser might bloat me to the point of no loss (or gasp, a gain)!

Thanks for helping push me along this week!

Fat Camp Follies: Like a Moth to a Flame

Skinny Emmie — Wed, 12 May 2010 00:40:10 +0000

I figured it was time for another edition of Fat Camp Follies. If you haven’t read my Fat Camp Follies stories before, I encourage you to start from the beginning:

Fat camp was a safe place, food wise. There aren’t many places on this earth that will prepare your food for you and serve it to you in exact portion sizes day in and day out. Talk about zero guesswork! You knew you had a set menu, and sucked it up. Didn’t like the spaghetti? Tough cookies. Didn’t like the nonfat fudge bar for night snack? You could trade ridiculous favors for people who would have cut off your hand for that fudge bar. For the most part, food was controlled and no one had any extras they could use for currency.

Of course there were those who would come to camp with candy and chips rolled up in their underwear inside their suitcase. Amateurs! Everyone knew you couldn’t sneak it in! I don’t remember any raids of luggage, but do know people got caught trying to bring it in.

However controlled the environment, however, you can’t keep a fat kid away from the junk food. It’s amazing to think back at how for many campers, it was an obsession. Were they trying to sneak junk food because it was against the rules and they wanted to look cool? Or was it that they simply didn’t know how to cope without it?

Like Moths to a Flame was Junk Food at Fat Campvia dbgg1979 on Flickr

I never really craved junk food as some people did. We didn’t have junk food in my house. No soda or chips or cookies, however we did always have a plentiful supply of sweet tea, as all good families in the south do. Some of these kids, however, were so addicted to it they would complain like crazy at meal times about the “healthy” food they had to eat (which really was quite tasty at times). They’d cry to their parents to send them boxes of candy. And a few of the parents would actually come through and do that for them! Some parents would come to parents weekend with treats to reward their kids for good jobs. Talk about delusional enablers!

There was one mecca – one workaround, where campers could get their fix. Was it risky? Yes. Was it worth it? To some – abso-freakin-loutley.

via Phillie Casablanca on Flickr

Do you see what I see?

Do you hear the angels singing?

It’s a VENDING MACHINE!!!!!!!

Seeing as we were on a college campus (UC San Diego), there were bound to be vending machines SOMEWHERE within walking distance. They weren’t within sight of the dorms or anywhere else the campers interacted, however a secret was passed down from summer to summer- sharing the secret coordinates of the vending machines behind the boys dorms.

If you went behind the boys dorms and led away from campus into a wooded sidewalk area, if you kept walking a little bit, you would see the bright florescent lights of the vending machines calling your name. I say you could see the lights because no one would attempt a vending machine raid during daylight hours. When darkness fell and quiet surrounded the camp, determined, dare-devil campers would tiptoe out down the path, running towards the light of the highly processed food and sodas.

If you made it to the vending machines, you threw your cash into that bad boy as fast as possible and then quickly worked out the pros and cons of buying multiple Snickers bars or mixing it up and getting some salty stuff and some sweets. You would frantically hit the alphanumeric combinations, hoping to God that the bag of chips didn’t get stuck in that round-dispenser-thingy.

The trick was that the vending machines were in an area with some bushes and trees. Counselors could hide behind some of them, watch people in the act, and then stop them on the way back to the dorms. I admit that as a counselor I did this a few times. Talk about shame of the kids who got caught. So close, yet so far away. What was that noise? Oh, it was the ZAP of the moth getting fried in the light.

Help Emmie Get Skinny!

Skinny Emmie — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 00:48:51 +0000

EDIT: PAGE FOR “GET EMMIE SKINNY” IS HERE- CHECK OUT VIDEO, AND SEND TO FRIENDS!

To get out of being bummed that The Biggest Loser didn’t pick me for season 10, I want to create my own Biggest Loser or Ruby-type environment. What does this mean? Well, I do pretty good on food. My good friend Lizzie is a caterer and she does a fantastic job of helping me break out of the rut with low-carb deliciousness. I also can do pretty well myself in making sure my food is on-pointe.

My big problem is exercise.

I’m very big. VERY big. Not as big as I used to be, but still, morbidly obese- very big!

I want to assemble a collection of methods, trainers, groups and/or gyms to help me discover exercise. Back in the day (when I was 18), I was an aerobics instructor. I taught kickboxing and step aerobics at fat camp. Yes, I was 220 pounds, but damn I was healthy. I could teach 3x a day, no problem. I want to get back to that shape. I NEED YOUR HELP.

There are SO MANY programs and activities I’d like to try in my quest to become fit. I need help busting these excuses:

Someone my size can’t do that
Oh my gosh the instructor/trainer will laugh their ass off at me
People are going to judge me
I’ll die if I try to do that

Even more so, I want to BUST these excuses for others out there. I want to show them that they can do it too. The whole “if I can do it, you can do it” adage would never ring so true.

I need people to help me make this happen. Gyms, trainers, fitness professionals, friends. I NEED YOU.

What I don’t have? Buckets-of-money to join all these places and to assemble a team. I can’t budget several hundred dollars a month on this project.

What I do have?

Lots of readers: I would blog about the business/trainer/gym/activity. I will link your site and your information in my blog posts. What I can’t do is lie. I retain full control over the content and reviews.
Twitter followers: Over 1500 of them that will see your posts and your name when I’m publishing the blog posts
A Flip Video camera: If you want, we can even videotape part of the session/activity and do a short interview. I will edit the video and post with the blog post. I will put it on YouTube to enhance your search engine results
PASSION. I have passion. I want this. I need this. This is YOUR opportunity to show the world your talents as a gym/trainer/instructor/fitness guru

I want a team. I want people who WANT to help others. I want people who will commit to helping me for more than one time. This is no “wham-bam-thank-you-mam” deal. I know that time=money, but please consider the value of the exposure over just cold, hard cash.

What else do I need? Fat Buddies! Ok, so you don’t have to be fat. You just have to want to help. How can you help?

Join the program and at least once weekly comment on what you did to improve your fitness, or link to a blog post explaining what you did
General encouragers- sometimes an “atta girl” goes a long way
Advocates- people to help me spread the word locally to get trainers/gyms/etc to want to help me

Things I’ve wanted to try:

Regular personal training sessions
Pilates
Pure Barre
Yoga
Spinning
Dancing
Different gyms
A boot camp
Boxing
Kettlebells
TRX training
Training like an athlete- sports endurance and such

I know I’m asking a lot. This could go over like a big thud. Who knows.

If you’re a fitness provider/company offering services in the Lexington, KY area who wants more info on this program, visit this page on my site and fill out the form. I will contact you to open up a conversation of what kind of arrangement we can make.

If you’re someone who is willing to cheer me on and be a “Fat Buddy” (or unfat buddy), PLEASE COMMENT below! I want to show fitness practitioners that we have an army of people who are cheering for this to work.

Muchas gracias- xoxo

Fat Camp Follies: Sneakin’ Around, Part 2

Skinny Emmie — Tue, 06 Apr 2010 02:06:02 +0000

This is another post in my “Fat Camp Follies” series. Other stories in the series include:

Fat Camp Follies: A Primer

Why Fat Camp?

Arrival and Setting the Scenery

100 Shades of Red

Pop Star

Sneakin’ Around (Part 1 of this post)

So, after reading part 1 of this story, you know that I successfully made it, incognito, to B’s car. Deception 1: telling my peers I was going to sleep early. Deception 2: Getting in a car with an “adult” (18) when I was a “minor” at 17. Deception 3: Leaving the campus without parental permission. Heh heh.

B and I were so worried about getting off campus unseen that we hadn’t even thought about where we’d go or what we’d do. We decided to just hit the freeway and drive with the windows down and chat for a while. We were great talkers. We could range from stupid stuff like fart jokes to complicated issues such as our parents relationships and being overweight. I came to learn that B was a fat camper when he was younger. He fortunately ”grew out” of his fat phase, but he totally understood where I was coming from.

We ended up driving for so long that we ended up realizing we were getting close to Tijuana (TJ), Mexico. Neither he or I had ever been in to Mexico, so what did we do? Drove across the border. Without Mexican car insurance, which you kind of needed to drive in TJ. Most people would park at the border and walk over, catching a cab to whatever shady TJ bar they could get in to, since the legal drinking age was 18. B and I? We didn’t have a plan. We just drove. And got lost. Seriously, it was so funny but kind of scary. We ended up finding a TJ cop who thankfully, was on the right side of the law. We followed his car back to the border and we headed back north towards San Diego.

Once we made it back safely into familiar territory, we decided we had enough excitement. We needed to find somewhere to just hang out.

We ended up parked at the beach of La Jolla Shores, which is gorgeous. It was well after 1am at this time, but neither of us had realized it. We hopped out of his car and sat on a concrete barrier with our feet dangling over, staring out into the dark night with the waves crashing in front of us. The smell of the salt water air and the cool breezes were intoxicating. We talked and talked (and when I say “talked,” I honestly mean TALKED). We did hold hands after a while, neither of us breaking our chatty stride. By now we were on to much more introspective topics than fart jokes. I completely forgot about all the rules I had broken to get to that point. So unlike me.

After an hour and a half or so, we ended up going back to his car because it had gotten pretty chilly. We reclined both our seats back and just laid there, still chatting away. I then had a pretty hot and heavy (but in the end, pretty innocent. We didn’t do it.) makeout session.

Sometime during the sucking of each others faces, a light shined in the window. Panic. SHIT. THEY FOUND ME. I’M GOING TO GET KICKED OUT OF FAT CAMP- MY FAVORITE PLACE ON EARTH.

Instead, the young cop chucked as B rolled down his window and just said “just making sure you guys are okay.” We assured him we were, and continued on our makeout session.

5:30am rolled around and as the sun rose, B sped back to campus so I could get back into my dorm before people woke up at 6:30am. Yes, I had stayed out the whole damn night. In teenage bliss. With B.

I hopped out of his car and fumbled to find my dorm key. Before I could get to the door, I saw her. Sitting on the steps. My counselor in charge of keeping watch over me. Shit.

She went on about how disappointed she was. About how she HAD to tell the owner of the camp so I could be dealt with. Because she and I would be in so much trouble. I felt like the biggest pile of shit on earth. Bad for her, sad for the phone call I’d have to make, sad for having to face the camp owner, who had brought me back at no charge in this special role. Shit.

After breakfast, I sulked down with the counselor to the owners office. I plopped down in front of her and told her. “I went out with B last night. Off campus. I’m sorry.” I’m sure I looked completely pitiful. There was silence. I braced for impact.

“So, you and B huh?” Then, a smirk appeared on her face. I didn’t know if it was a trick. I explained again, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

And then, I experienced not only forgiveness, but actual happiness at my indiscretions!!! Camp owner said “well, I’m going to need you to call your parents and tell them, so they know what happened, since we’re responsible for you here since you’re 17.” I quickly agreed, and started to leave. On my way out, she said softly, “Next time, just get one of your parent’s permission, you know, since B isn’t a counselor here anymore since he’s leaving for his knee surgery.”

I ABOUT DIED!

I got away with it. All of it. I called my mom, who was always SUPER cool about stuff like this. She asked me about B, and of course said that if I wanted to do it again, that she’d call in with her permission.

The following day when taking the kiddies to their classes, the place where B and I used to meet, I called him. He had since made it back home to Santa Barbara. He was relieved I wasn’t in trouble. And he planned on coming up in 2 weeks to take me out again.

No sneaking around this time. We left with permission. We ended up going to a movie where half of the boys camp happened to be at. Damn. If we tried to hold hands or anything, all the boys would say “ooooh!” Damn kids. It was funny though.

We ended up walking around the shops at LaJolla cove. No trips to Tijuana. Nothing scandalous.

I didn’t really talk to B much after that, unfortunately. In any case, I’m thankful that he helped me experience, for once, my uninhibited side. Now, I’m wound so tight that it’s good to look back on these memories.

Unlike boob guy, I don’t know what B’s ambitions were. And alas, a Google ~~stalk~~ search of him doesn’t yield anything, so I can’t update you like I did with boob boy. So, I’ll hold on to the memories of B, of briefly being a rebel, and of getting away with it.

Fat Camp Follies: Sneakin’ Around

Skinny Emmie — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 21:52:00 +0000

This is another post in my long neglected “Fat Camp Follies” series. Other stories in the series include:

Fat Camp Follies: A Primer

Why Fat Camp?

Arrival and Setting the Scenery

100 Shades of Red

Pop Star

I’ve always been safe. Square. No coloring outside the lines. No rocking the boat. You get the idea!

The third year of fat camp, I was really feeling good about myself. I wasn’t my thinnest (215 pounds- if you can even call that “thin…”) but I wasn’t at my heaviest. I just felt confident. Perhaps it was the comfort of having been to fat camp before, or maybe it was because I was in a “mentor” role (which is like a junior counselor). Whatever it was, it left me a little less inhibited than I had been before.

In previous Fat Camp Folly posts I’ve mentioned the boyzzz. The third year of fat camp, I was 17. I helped out taking the pre-teen girls to behavior modification and nutrition classes across the campus of UC San Diego (where fat camp was). I didn’t go into the sessions, so usually I’d sit outside in the glorious SoCal weather and read a book. I enjoyed the quiet time.

A couple of weeks into the b-mod and nutrition-taking routine, the younger boys started going at the same time. The guy in charged of taking the little boys was B, an 18-year old runner from Santa Barbara. Physically, he was totally not my type. In fact, he was pretty much my anti-type. Bright red hair, pale skin, freckles, thin frame. He was a runner.

I started to really look forward to toting all the pre-teen girls to their classes because I knew I’d see B there. He actually seemed interested in me as a person. We could talk forever. What felt like 10 minutes had been an hour. Of course, there were times we’d see each other in passing, but your schedule at fat camp is so structured, there’s very little free time to just shoot the shit with other counselors.

Weeks went by and I developed an uber-crush on B. He was just genuinely nice, and I loved the conversation.

One night I saw him approaching me with a brace on his knee. Turns out he was running and completely busted his knee. He would have to go back to Santa Barbara the following week for surgery. Away from me and our chats and fat camp. I was devastated. I pretended not to act sad, but he completely sensed it. And guess what? He asked to take me out! Like a date! No one ever asks me out! EEE!

One small problem. I was a minor. To leave campus, I needed a parent’s permission. And even then, it was against the rules for counselors and campers to date. I was still technically a camper. So even if I got my parents permission, it still would have been forbidden. B knew these issues, so together we devised a plan:

My dorm was next to a side street. I would tell all my suite-mates that I was tired and didn’t feel well and turn in early from socializing time.
B would pull up at the stop sign on the side street at the specified time, and I’d run out of my dorm and hop in his car during snack time (right before socializing time at night was over).
I would totally be back in time to get back in the dorm during the middle of the night, and no one would suspect anything.

We didn’t plan what we were going to do- all we were worried about was getting out of camp un-noticed. Everything went according to plan. I got in his car without being noticed. The first time I remember ever blatantly breaking rules. Rules that could have gotten me kicked out of fat camp for good.

Want to hear what happened when we pulled out of the campus? You’ll have to stay tuned for part 2 of the story

Persistence and Perspective

Skinny Emmie — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 03:13:39 +0000

I know I’ve been writing a little more introspectively lately. Stories definitely not as funny as some Fat Camp Follies, but I really think that they’re important.

I’m not in some weird “dark and moody” place right now, just kind of blah. Could be weather- this endless cold and snow is really wearing on my energy. (Aw hell, talk about an #earworm. The rest of the night I’ll have Milli Vanilli in my head “Blame it on the rain, yeah…yeah…”)

Anyway. I wrote this post over the weekend. Not many comments on it. Maybe it was a snoozefest, who knows. But the strangest thing happened. I got a Facebook message shortly after posting the link to the blog, from someone I haven’t seen or talked to in a few years. I asked her permission to post this before just throwing it out there (I know I’m an oversharer, but I do have some courtesy!)

It is interesting that you write about the people who have all this drive and success. I always found you to be one of those people to look for inspiration. You were always so dedicated, and put so much time into everything you did. You never gave up. At the time we were working together you were on the Atkins diet and I was amazed at how strict you were despite all of the junk food people brought into the office and how much weight you had lost. I was also amazed at how well you handled the situation with your mom and how strong you were despite how hard it must have been. Not to mention you were already a manager in your early 20s, and now have a masters. And you always had a smile through all of this. I have continued to see great accomplishments on Facebook from time to time. If it is this “genetic thing – this Superman-like drive” that you mention, then you are one of those people who have been blessed with the gene. You may not be an Olympic gold medalist, but you definitely have a gold medal in life.

Gah. She made me cry.

So, I thought about it some more, and replied. Wanted to share that as well to hopefully explain myself a little better.

Thanks for sharing those really kind words, I really appreciate it.
I think everything is a matter of perspective. It’s much easier to be critical of yourself when you’re not being objective. In the grand scheme of things, I know I’ve accomplished a lot. But as long as there is this weight struggle it’s like I can’t really “accept” any of these accomplishments- there’s this big thing weighing over my head. I had lost 150 pounds, then when my mom died, gained it back, and have just lost 60 of it again, but still- it’s a daily struggle.

When it comes down to it, I am extremely fortunate. My parents were supportive, I was able to get a good education, good jobs, go back for more education, great husband, beautiful home, cute dog, whatever.

So why does it seem like until I really lose the weight, I can’t “claim” these things? Until I battle this fat monster, I can’t really say I’m a success? Could it be that until I conquer this one thing, all of my other accomplishments can’t be held in correct perspective?

Just pontificating. On with your day

Olympic Persistence

Skinny Emmie — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 01:14:50 +0000

The past 2 weeks, I’ve been watching the Olympics (how can you miss them? That’s all that’s on!).

Every 2 years when the Olympics come on, I watch and always am in awe of the athletes who dedicated their whole lives to work up to a few seconds of perfect performance that results in winning an Olympic medal.

Think about it: how many things did you try growing up that you quit? Many of us were given opportunities to excel just as these Olympians have, but we give up. I know personally I gave up a lot. Or if I didn’t give up, I just didn’t try very hard. I never had that razor-sharp focus that is required to really become excellent in a sport or a hobby. I quit piano, choir, tennis and swimming.

Piano: I couldn’t understand reading the notes. I couldn’t play fun tunes because I couldn’t learn the simple ones. My dad played by ear and it frustrated me I couldn’t just “get it.”
Choir: I love singing, but choir was boring. I sang in elementary and middle school, then I think freshman year of high school was in the community youth choir, but that was it. Too bad I didn’t do choir in high school- I could have sang on stage with the Backstreet Boys- LOL.
Tennis: I took tennis lessons when I was young, and liked playing tennis. But as I got fatter, it was hard. Hard to run, to get to the ball fast enough to set up the shot and hit it perfectly. I practiced in middle school with my dad and friend Angie, and in high school, I was on the tennis team jr. and sr. years. But I was no good. Too big. Couldn’t move well enough, and didn’t care to really put in the extra work it would have taken to get decent. I remember I had to order a special big tennis skirt. I would still like to play tennis one day again.
Swimming: In elementary school I swam for the neighborhood team, then got accepted into the year round swim league. When we moved to Kentucky, I didn’t join another league. My sister then started to get much faster than I, and it made me mad. I got fatter, and she was this tiny stick thing. I swam in middle school for the neighborhood team, but never went back to year-round. Swam for high school team Freshman, Sophomore and Junior years, but was never very good. Too big. Although I do proud myself that my specialty stroke was the butterfly.

So as I sit and watch the Olympics, and hear the stories of the Olympians and their sacrifices they’ve made all their life, I wonder if it’s a genetic thing- this Superman-like drive and intensity that fuels their excellence.

Click to watch dry land training video of Apolo Ohno

Maybe it’s part of the parents sacrifice to support and push for their kids to do their absolute best. I can’t say I didn’t have this though, because my parents were both very supportive with everything my sister and I did. Still, this story was particularly touching. Can you imagine a better gift for a parent’s sacrifice than reaching the pinnacle of your sport… multiple times? Unreal.

Video of Apolo Ohno and his Dad

Or is it simply just a personality trait? This burning desire to be the best, no matter what sacrifices need to be made. One day I’d like to do a triathalon: something that takes regimented training, drive, and persistence to accomplish. That’s as close as I’ll get to my Olympic moment. For the meantime, however, I must simply figure out how to take the baby steps to get closer to that point.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this subject. Leave comments below!

Why do you want to lose weight?

Skinny Emmie — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 02:51:01 +0000

This is an interesting question: Why do you want to lose weight?

The standard fatty answer we’ve been told to say all our lives is that “I want to be more healthy.”

by Arnold Chao of arnisto.com via flickr.com

Ok, that’s fine, if that’s really true. But is that your true motivator? Are you sure? Of course we all want to be healthy, but there is something beyond that, I assure you.

Seeing as I’ve gained and lost (and gained and lost, and gained…) so much weight over a brief 28 year life, I realized a few years ago that unless you can really identify these motivation factors as far as why you want to lose it, that you’ll never be successful. I truly believe this. If you’re like me, you start off super motivated and you can see the picture of motivators SO CLEARLY that nothing can deter you. But then a roadblock. Something that makes you lose sight of those things.

First it gets fuzzy and you think you can make it through the rough spot.

Then the darkness starts to come.

And finally the static. The black and white snow and white noise that erases the picture in your mind.

Can anyone else relate to this, or am I just a freak?

When you try and fail anything, why is it? Lack of effort?

I’m very focused and determined and head-strong (typical type A personality). I am usually pretty disciplined and I usually figure out a way to get what I want. But conquering the weight loss has been my life challenge. Like climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro or crossing the Sahara. If you lose focus of what is waiting for you at the end, then what keeps you moving forward?

I’m just rambling really, but it’s an interesting question, and I just wanted to throw it out there. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Blending In or Standing Out?

Skinny Emmie — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 23:48:10 +0000

I had an interesting predicament last week.

I was given the great opportunity to attend Social Fresh Nashville, a great social media conference. Seeing as social media marketing is both a professional and personal hobby for me, I was really looking forward to it. Mixing and mingling with others who shared the same interests? Awesome!

Or not.

Don’t get me wrong, the conference was fantastic! It was my own personal struggles faced during it that left me frustrated at myself. While there, I found myself faced with an interesting paradox. One that actually happens a lot with me. It’s a true struggle and I feel like separate aspects of my personality are fighting with each other.

I’ve always been a classic overachiever when it comes to education and my professional life. If you called me a geek or a work-a-holic I would relish in the fact that you perceive me that way. I like to be noticed for my marketing skills and how much I try to keep on top of trends. I’ll admit that I’m a geek, and am pretty proud of it.

So meeting up with social media marketers at a great conference should have really made me excited. Instead, the other part of me reared it’s ugly (and fat) head. I don’t fit. I don’t fit the typical go-getter blogger, marketer, president of my MBA class mold. Physically I’m slow (I walk slow) and tall (5’10) and very large. Instead of going up and striking a conversation with people as my thinner self would love to do, I found myself sitting against the wall in the conference sessions, not asking questions, not trying to network and connect with these people that my geek side really wanted to meet.

On one hand, I want to meet, connect, listen to stories, and be heard. On the other, I’m cringing in my seat, scared I’m standing out too much, spilling over the seat, wondering why no one is sitting next to me (and secretly thanking them for not). My normally happy self is transformed into one who scowls, trying to make people stay away. But inside, Skinny Emmie really wants to interact!

Does anyone else ever run into this problem? I know the solution is to just “be confident and be yourself” but that is probably like telling me to put a party hat on a roadrunner- it ain’t happening… not until I’m Skinny Emmie.

ETA: Found this picture on Twitter via @paulaberg who was speaking on a panel. Blech.

Temptation

Skinny Emmie — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 18:54:58 +0000

“Opportunity knocks only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell” – Unknown

Oy friends. It’s Sunday early afternoon and I just work up a couple of hours ago from a deep sleep. Well, let me clarify that: A deep, alcohol and carb induced sleep. *sigh*

I get comments both on this blog and in real life saying how people don’t know how I resist the carbs all the time. And for the most part, I don’t know how I do it either. What I DO know though, is that I’m human and I make mistakes. And I made mistakes last night.

My dear friend Lizzie had a Christmas Party last night at her beautifully decorated house. She is starting a catering business, and I’ve mentioned before how she cooks me fantastic low-carb meals, even though she’s a vegetarian. Her low carb cheesecake is crazy good, and the low carb casseroles she has come up with over the past couple of years are out of this world.

She had some things at her party that I could eat, knowing that I wouldn’t want to eat the parsley potato latkas or the chocolate covered pretzels. She had meatballs and mushrooms and a wonderful artichoke chipotle dip with celery and carrots. Had I prepared properly, those items would have sustained me throughout the night. But alas, I failed to plan, which resulted in a failure overall.

Typically when I’m going into a situation where I’m faced with carb or alcohol temptation, I’ll arrive at the party having just eaten a fully satisfying meal. This allows for my mind to resist the temptation of running straight to the food and piling stuff up on my plate. Yesterday however, all I had consumed was a pot of coffee with cream and whole grain/flax bread with natural peanut butter. When I arrived at the party at 7, I was so hungry that I made the beeline to the table.

The first couple of hours I was good. I stuck to my low carb beer and ate meatballs, mushrooms and spicy chipotle dip on celery. After that, I ventured into the caviar on crackers. About an hour later, I had downed a chocolate martini, one of the most delicious things ever. It tasted like a Wendy’s Frosty with a kick (Godiva liqueur and chocolate vodka). I then sampled the parsley potato latkas. As guests left and I ran out of my low carb beer, I reached for Corona. And Bud. And then, this happened (warning, safe for work, but still an awful, gruesome picture):

EVIDENCE.

Oh the shame!!! Chocolate covered pretzels with sprinkles. Caught in the act, but I didn’t care. And not only did I eat those shown in the picture, I had SEVERAL more. They’re like crack.

Today, I’m nursing my hangover and cringing at the evidence. I mean really, if I were going to cheat, I should have planned on doing it right with all my favorites like pizza, pasta, pie and ice cream.

Anyway, I post this because while some people think I’m this upbeat, happy, temptation-free person, I know the truth. And I wanted to share with everyone.

Fat Camp Follies | Pop Star

Skinny Emmie — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 04:04:39 +0000

Note: this is the fourth post in my Fat Camp Follies series. To see them all, visit here.

I went to Fat Camp during the pre-American Idol days. Hansen were still tiny boys singing “MMM Bop” and Britney Spears and N’Sync were just about the biggest things in the universe to a teenager. Growing up, I had visions of being a pop idol. I blame it on being raised on Tiffany and Debbie Gibson. In any case, Fat Camp brought these desires out in me for some odd reason.

Every year, there was a talent show where any camper could enter and then show off their skillz to the entire camp. There was instrument playing, comedy, dance and of course, singing. The great thing about Fat Camp is that through your time there, confidence shoots through the roof. In the Fat Camp World, you’re no longer judged on your weight, but a lot by your personality and how you treat people. Performing in talent shows with a bunch of fat kids are a lot less scary than those like you’d encounter at your local middle or high school.

The first year of Fat Camp, I decided I wanted to channel my inner diva. I chose to partner with this guy friend of mine to sing a duet. If you did a *facepalm* just now, you had the right direction. In addition to building confidence, you also build a lot of sentimenal feelings. We chose a sentimental song. “I’ll Be There” ala Mariah Carey and Trey Lorenz. Yes, another *facepalm* should have just occurred. I, my friends, am no Mariah Carey. And this guy, by far, did not have the vocal chops of Trey Lorenz. We were both nervous, voices warbly, and I’m sure we both looked miserable. But we did it. No one booed.

The second year of Fat Camp, I attemped a song all by myself. I blame all the song selection on the very few karaoke tracks that were avialable in the San Diego music shop we had to go to get our stuff. No one knew the song. Birmingham, by Amanda Marshall. Yes, I sang an upbeat song about domestic violence. *facepalm* But I had the confidence to sing all by myself, and again, no one booed. And I remember vividly, I felt like I looked good. I had a short orange/red plaid skirt on, and a red tank top. Not Britney, but oh well.

The third year of fat camp is when things all went crazy. I came to camp early to train with the counseling staff and such, as I was assisting with them. Britney was huge at this point. “Baby One More Time” was just THE song. One of the counselors, a collegiate blonde cheerleader with a knack for choreography decided that I would be Britney and she would gather 2 other counselors to be background dancers and she would choreograph. We ended up with me, blonde cheerleader/choreographer, another blonde-yet-not-so-coordinated gal and a very attractive tall, dark and handsome male counselor. We practiced for 3 days, and I seriously can STILL remember the moves. I did miniature moves while the dancers danced around me and did the full moves. The emcee of welcoming night for the campers (ironically, the guy who did the duet with me in year one- turned out to be a snarky gossipy guy, but whatever), teased to the campers that someone famous was going to perform for them. The music started blaring and on came me as Britney, and these counselors doing these crazy dances to my sub-par singing. I am just so thankful that this was pre-digital cameras and Flip Videos. Oy. We had tons of fun though.

Later in the year, a group of returning campers and I decided that we would perform at the talent show as N’Sync. We wore oversized t-shirts, baggy shorts and/or pants we borrowed from some of the guy campers, pulled our hair back, and taped on pictures of which N’Sync’er we were on the front of our shirts. Thankfully, we didn’t sing. We just lip-synched and did a display of what we thought were incredibly complex choreographic feats (also known as amateur dancing). As was requisite for boy bands at the time, we had to act out what we were saying. So “tearing up my heart” looked like us ripping our hearts out of our shirts. We imitated moves from the music video. It was crazy. And fun. And no one booed.

I can’t embed the video, but if you want shits and giggles, see some of the N’Sync moves we tried to imitate from the music video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luRC9Uisc80

What is the point of this post, other than to talk about how as teenage I had a penchant for performing in fat camp talent shows? The point is that each year, confidence grew and I had more fun. I learned quickly that singing a duet with some random other camper dude was just boring for other people. But lip synching to N’Sync and dancing like fools? Good times.

I face severe insecurities every day related to my weight. What if I could live every day like I did in these goofy talent show moments? No inhibitions of what people would think, just doing something because A) I wanted to, and B) There was no fear.

I can’t wait until my Skinny Emmie is more well refined and I can start letting go of these protectionist layers I’ve got right now.

This does all get me thinking though… karaoke anyone?!?

Update on Jet Plane…

Skinny Emmie — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 17:20:24 +0000

So, after my freak out last night, some of you have shown concern- LOL. I’m not lying, I did have a good amount of anxiety this morning. I just sucked it up and dealt with it. I thought I’d give a quick update while I have Wi-Fi at Panera (grabbing a quick lunch)

Flight 1: packed plane, small regional jet. Discreet flight attendant happily got me a seatbelt extender. I made it first to the row and had a few minutes to get my extender clipped, tightened and armrest down. Armrest did compress against my hip, thus making the recline button permenantly depressed. Had to use stomach and back to hold myself upright during takeoff. Didn’t say a word to man next to me. He seemed to be fine, and not terribly inconvenienced. I read 1/2 of a really great Inc. Magazine (November 2009 issue).

Flight 2: This was the one that I was freaked out about last night. The one where I was assigned a middle seat. After having a great customer service experience with a ticket change with Delta earlier in the day (for next weeks trip), I decided that I should give it a shot and try US Airways. Had to explain that I was a larger individual who required a seatbelt extender, and wanted to request a window or aisle as to not inconvenience the passengers to the left or right of me as I was assigned a middle seat. She suggested I upgrade to a choice seat (the dumbest thing ever, IMHO). The only seats left on the plane were choice seats, about 10 seats that are reserved for Preferred members, or to those who paid a little extra. I told her I tried to get a choice seat, but it wouldn’t let me. She said that if I did online check in, it would offer me the preferred seat and show me the price. I thanked her and jumped online to check in. There were 2 full, empty rows of Choice seats, so I picked a window seat in one of them. Cost me a whopping $5 (it was WAY worth it for my sanity). When I got to the gate, I realized that the plane was going to be crowded- a few people were on standby (they eventually all made it on). Got on the plane, flight attendant cordially got me a seatbelt extender (although it was not discreet at all). I was first to the row, had a chance to buckle myself in. I tried to see how close I was to getting the seatbelt on, and it looks like 3 inches in the hips. I can totally do that. Man sat in aisle seat, and we didn’t have anyone in the middle. I crossed my fingers and said a little prayer, and when the cabin door shut, my stress was released. I threw the arm rest up and lounged comfortably. Woot!

One other sidenote as I finish up my Greek Salad at Panera (yum salad, but not so yum breath afterwards). Last time I was in the Charlotte airport trudging through the terminals (today was from terminal E to terminal B) I noticed how winded I was and how long it seemed to get from point A to point B. Today? No issue whatsoever. I’m a notoriously slow walker, but I still passed people! Ended up ignoring the delicious smells of Cinnabon and got a grande red eye with cream from Starbucks and a cup of non-fat, sugar free white chocolate macadamia nut frozen yogurt. I felt like a little kid getting to eat ice cream for breakfast!

Also, when I made it to the rental car pick up, I had gotten a compact car, because it’s just me, and I’m watching company $$. I start to drive to the check-out portion and the guy noticed me having to manually crank the window down. I must have looked confused- it’s been so long since I’ve cranked a window. He said “oh no, you don’t need this compact car!” I thought he was trying to sell me an upgrade, to which I replied, “no sir, this is fine, really!”. Then he pointed over to a Pontiac G6 and said- “Free Upgrade! Let’s Go!” So, thankfully I’m not cramped in a Hyundai Accent with crank windows and instead am in a fun, full size Pontiac G6, whose steering wheel doesn’t cut into my gut. SCORE!

So, thanks for all the good vibes. By all indications, they worked! XOXO