The Biggest Loser UPDATE

Remember The Biggest Loser. A competition I competed in. In April and May.



You can read about it in my archives. If you choose to refresh your memory. On my ups and downs of becoming healthy.



Let's just say that I came in second. A winner was never announced. Results were never given out. The contest and the contest creator just vanished in to thin air.



And apparently so did my drive to get back in shape.



Kind of.



Meaning that I have been inconsistent. And unfocused. And hungry. And lazy.



Basically like a cat. Except for I don't leave "presents" around the pool in hopes that a human will step in them.



Just to recap.... I competed up until I left for the beach. I lost a total of 18 pounds. I went down a size in my jeans.



And everything was right with the world.



Then came the infamous beach trip. The trip where I ate, drank, ate, and ate. My only form of exercise was jumping over waves. And acting out country songs.



Don't ask. It will embarrass my family.



So... I gained 8 pounds.



And then I punched my genes (and my newly downsized jeans) and told them to get the heck out of my house.



When they refused to leave. I had no choice but to get refocused. And get back on track.



So.... I lost 5 pounds.



And then Kev got me this.....



Not just any ole bike. But a spinning bike. As in the kind of bike that I rode several times a week in my most favorite class at Gold's Gym two years ago. The kind of bike that gets my juices flowing. That makes me curse. That makes me want my mama.



And Kev didn't just surprise me with it. He actually set it on top of me. While I was eating a block of cheese and drinking a frappacino and wishing I was wearing an outfit made of marshmallows. So I could eat them any time of the day.



With such a heavy piece of equipment sitting on top of me. It was going to be impossible to act like I didn't know we had a bike.... to say that I had forgotten about the bike.... to get up and use the bathroom without climbing over the bike.


It was time for me and the bike to get to know each other.



And it was going to be painful.



Almost as painful as the time that I got to know a handful of jalapeno peppers. The key word there is "hand"ful as my hand almost fell off.



The bike is something else. It is intense. Exhilarating. Sweaty.



It makes me very sore.



And I love it.



Kev even got me some DVDs to play while riding. My favorite one is where the instructor talks you through scenarios to get your blood pumping. To get you to ride hard and fast. For example... she explains that you are trying to pass your friend for bragging rights. Then you have to pass a group of biking "snobs" who think they are better than you. And then comes the biggest challenge of all.... you have to pass doberman pinchers who will try to bite your ankles!!!



Folks!!! Do you remember my horrid tale of being a child and having to ride past these horribly mean dobermans who would bite at my ankles??? It is an ongoing nightmare. And now this instructor makes me fight through my fears and ride as fast as I can to get past the dogs.



And I scream out loud the whole time.



And I call the dogs "doo-doo heads". Like my Dad taught me to.



And then I remember that I am just watching a video. And the dogs are make believe. And I tell the cops that were called anonymously to my house that I am sorry for their inconvenience and they are welcome to leave. And to please remove the straight jacket.



Me and this bike are going to end up being best friends. I just know it.



On a side note.... I want to give you an example of the level-headed, portion controlled, health(ish) fanatic that I married. His name is Kev. In case you forgot.

You see... He won a Hershey candy bar at my nephew's birthday party. A Hershey bar that any one else in my family would have demolished with their teeth in a matter of seconds. However, this lucky Hershey bar lasted a week.... piece by piece....


This is a picture of it more than halfway through the week. The week that Kev spent eating it. A few rectangles a day. That is all he needs to be happy.

I am forever amazed. By his eating habits.

Maybe one day a little of it will rub off on me.

Like when pigs fly.