Sam Adams and Jillian Michaels. And why we can’t all just be friends

I wrote a really nice post about running yesterday. And then was too busy running to type it into WW and post it. Instead you’re getting a message from me. Buzzed. On Sam Adams Alpine Spring. Because my co-worker/friends(/ex-friends) decided I needed to flirt with the singer at the bar Because 6 weeks ago I said he was cute (he is!). After a drink and a half (tall ones) he took a break and was sitting at the bar. And they WOULD NOT LET IT GO so I went up to the bar but I needed an excuse to talk to him. So I ordered another beer at the bar. Even though I hadn’t finished my beer at the table. Did I mention it’s Tuesday. And I still have to work tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. We talked for a minute. But I knew it would be nothing. Because a friend that is not a co-worker is an A+ FB stalked and found his girlfriend. But they WOULD NOT LET IT GO. Still. He was really nice. And he’s still cute. And he sings incredibly well. And is there every week. And is better than the last singer they had. Not a total loss.
I always go to the gym after work. Not usually. Always. But we planned this big trip to the bar tonight (when I say bar, I mean slightly over priced bar at a two star hotel in the middle of a tiny town in MA that’s convenient to the office because it’s only a quarter mile away and there’s never traffic in that direction). Anyways. Because we were barring it tonight, I meant to get up this morning. But I’m not a morning person. I hate morning. I think it’s dumb. Morning should really start at…I don’t know…11:30? So the thought of getting out of bed for more than 15 seconds to turn off the alarm that is across the room specifically because I can snooze an alarm beside my bed in my sleep is just too much. 15 seconds, a snooze, and Bam! I am back under those covers. Forget actually getting up to work out with Jillian Michaels. If you think that is happening you should find your local mental hospital. Cuz you crazy! So it was 8:30 and I still hadn’t gotten in any exercise because we went straight to the bar. Which meant no hour long weight lifting work out that I usually get on Tuesdays. On top of that 30 Day Shred with Jillian Michaels arrived the middle of last week. And I let her just sit on top of the DVD. And then planned to start working out with her this morning (hahahaha. yeah right). But when I got home, I knew I needed to check off that dang GHG check. So I put on gym clothes and popped that DVD in. And. Oh. My. I think I’m dead. I’m fairly certain I’m posting this from the afterlife. Laying here now, I’m terrified of what the morning is going to look like. And the morning includes more quality happy fun time with JM. Because I’ll be heading into the city for a volunteer thing tomorrow night. And then I’m going running. So no time for JM after work. Because MA is experiencing a sweet little heat wave (40+ degrees!!!!) and the snow is all melted leaving clear and clean sidewalks. I would like to hurt JM. Instead I’m going to let her hurt me. For 30 days. Straight. You might ask why…


…I have no idea.

Hearts and 21 weeks to summer!!!

167 days minus 14

Anyone who is past the first week of Weight Watchers that claims to not have enough points and still be hungry is crazy (I say this while I still have days like this. So really I shouldn’t judge.) My plate is heaping with a delicious meal. Except really it just looks like it. I’ve got a 1/2 cup rice, 3oz of chicken breast cooked in oil, chilli powder, salt and pepper, and a little chicken broth, and a huge pile of red pepper and Brussels sprouts. I wish I’d known about Brussels sprouts forever. I’m in love with them. Even though I overcooked them a bit tonight. SO if you’re hungry after dinner, consider adding a nice bright green veg. I must remind myself of this next Tuesday when I’m starving and have used all my points and want to just eat all the things.

I’m 14 days into 167-days-of-following-Weight-Watchers-until-the-first-day-of-summer or whatever I’m calling it. The second 7 days did not go as well as the first. But I’m still here. I’m still tracking. I’m still running. I’m still lifting weights. I just drank too much on Friday and ate too much chocolate last week (seriously, how can there still be Christmas candy in the office????) I also missed two smileys this week. Sad faces all around. But I kept myself honest and didn’t try to count the trips from the car into the three places I went to count as exercise (I was tempted. I won’t lie) 


I’ll be up at WI tomorrow morning. But dang it if I won’t be back down next week. And I got a 5k in last night. And a FULL 60 SECOND PLANK in tonight. So I’m feeling gangsta! (except, not really. I’m whiter than white. And way too terrified of confrontation to ever be gangsta. Buy Ima let myself be a planking, 5king gangsta.) According to Nicole I had a Nicki Minaj moment. But there was this really cute guy next to me in the fitness center and I didn’t want to yell out Nicki Minaj! and have him to think I was weird (even though I was dancing a little to my music. And other than the fact that I was intentionally pushing my body to the point that I was violently shaking and thought I was going to die right then and there). Anywho. I’m felling good. Dinner was tasty. But now I must do dishes, laundry, and take out the trash. How come no one told 10 year old me that being 25 is nothing like when I played house and it was all dog walking and the perfect job that I never had to go to and meeting cute boys. It’s just a lot of no fun things. Well. Except running races. And traveling. And office parties. And sometimes there’s meeting cute boys/men.

Hearts and Nicki Minaj

153 days til summer snow be damned!!!!!!!!

167-days-of-Weight-Watchers-until-the-first-day-of-summer

Disclaimer: I stole this from my WW blog. I actually wrote this yesterday…


Week 1 of my 167-days-of-Weight-Watchers-until-the-first-day-of-summer  is over! (I call it something different every time I write. I think I need an acronym. Or something funny.) And there’s so much to discuss. In my defense, I just left the gym so I’m a little high on endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. And happy people don’t just kill their husbands!

Hmm. Where to start. Well. Check out the picture with this blog. That? That right there? That’s 42 smileys. You can see at the bottom but with WW online you get a check for everyday you track one of these 6 things. And a smiley if you meet all these checks. I met them all. Hooray!! I will fully admit there were days I wasn’t sure I’d drink enough water. And there were definitely days I just wanted to sit on the couch. But I managed to move my body. Every. Single. Day.

Next. I beat the stuffing out of my body at the gym tonight (ok. Technically it’s a fitness center in one of the buildings in my office complex. It’s one of the perks of my company being in a park with other companies. Free gym.) And somewhat shocking, there were only two new people along with the two or three regulars I usually see. I guess those resolutions to work out everyday that the whole world set on Jan 1 have already started to falter. I did three circuits of: standing bicep curls, tricep flys, crunches, lateral pull down (I’m up to 60 pounds of resistance on that bad boy!), jumping lunges, front/side flys, planks, and side planks. I’m most jazzed about the side planks. I could only hold each side for 15 seconds but looking at myself in the mirror I looked…fit. And that was AWESOME! Of course, I’m not going to be able to move my arms tomorrow. Is it acceptable to call into work because I won’t actually be able to type??

I’ve got monthly trivia tonight so I knew I’d want a cider tonight (the bar has it on tap!) so I needed dinner to be 8 points and include oil. Man did I accidently whip up something delicious. 2 tsp. peanut oil, 3 oz. ground turkey, red pepper, mushrooms all stir fried. Then after they were tender I added a little chicken broth a little white wine and a little lemon juice and let it cook down until most of the liquid was gone. So so tasty.

I know tomorrow’s WI isn’t going to be exciting because I’m a terrible peeker and though I dropped 5 pounds by last Friday, the scale hasn’t budged. So, for the week I’ve lost 5. But I think it was mostly bloat when I WI last Wednesday. Still. It’s 5 pounds I’m not carrying around anymore. Ok. Must dash. Time to fail miserably at trivia!

Hearts and side planks!!!

163 days until summer. And counting

Cod picatta

What up home slices???

(I recently learned there’s a difference between home slice and home skillet. So, while I prefer home skillet it really doesn’t have a nice definition)

I made an amazing recipe last night. I wish it had come out a little prettier. It’s cod picatta. And amazing. And I even managed to make it a little healthier. Though I think that’s where my pretty factor went off the rails. It’s essentially some cod in a little flour into a pan with oil in it. 7 tablespoons of oil to be exact. that’s a little much. So I substituted 3 tablespoons of the oil with chicken broth (more of which was added). But the broth diluted it a bit much and my fish didn’t crispify as much as I wanted it to. Next time I think I’ll take out the 3 tablespoons of oil, but I’ll put in a little less broth. There’s also another 3 tablespoons of oil that get whisked in at the end. So I exchanged 1 of those for broth as well. In this case a 1 to 1 exchange was fine. This recipe was another delicious one from Mercato del Mare. It’s my favorite email to receive every week. These two women decided to start a fish market in the North End of Boston. But decided to make it fun. They have fish, prepared meals, teach an oyster shucking class, and send out a hilarious email every week with easy and delicious (and very nearly professional grade) recipes. I ❤ Liz and Keri. The subject line of this week’s email was “What in the name of cod did I eat” referring to the inevitable weight gain most people (including me!) faced last week. I’m bad and I peeked this morning. Looks like I had a little beer bloat going on Wednesday and my WI was a little inflated (ha! it’s not a pun. But it sounds like it is. Right? I’m flying on a full 8 hours of sleep and two diet cokes right now. I have no idea what’s going on).

Hearts and skillets!


PS. Get thyself over to Mercato del Mare’s website and sign thyself up for their email. You’ll thank me.