...i am a princess on the way to my throne...


Just Call Me She-Hulk 

Yes, freaky dahlings, you heard correctly: I am weight-training once again. I hurt, I ache, and I feel like my arms are about to fall off, but I'm back in the saddle, jack.

Thanks to the a la fabulous Erica, I have stumbled across a web site that has rekindled my long-lost love for Getting Fit. After a two months-plus hiatus from the Body-For-Life world, I am back full swing but this time I'm doing it to get fit, not just to 'lose weight'.

The truth is that I had developed a bit of a mental eating disorder back when I first started the whole weight losing gig. I had gotten so obsessive about weighing that 'certain number' that Robert actually threatened to take the scale with him in the mornings and return it only on Saturday, my 'weigh day'. I didn't care what I looked like, I just wanted to weigh 140 pounds, man! Who cared that my arms were jiggling like last Tuesday's Jello-mold, or that my stretch marks could rival the deep etches of the Sahara, I was losing weight, by jollies!

Okay, fine. I was losing weight; 27 pounds of blubbery, lose, jiggly weight at that. What I was not doing, however, was necessarily getting fit. I had abandoned my weight training for excess cardio because I thought, quite frankly, that 'I knew better'. I would put on my little exercise outfits and whirl around the room with Richard Simmons or walk a mile or two with Leslie Sansone, both of which I highly recommend if you want great cardio workouts. The problem, however, was that I thought weight training would only benefit me "after I lose the weight". I saw no place for it in my finely constructed exercise routine. Newsflash: Aerobics increases your heartrate, which burns calories and eats up fat. Weight training builds muscle, which burns calories and eats up fat. Hello? Light bulb! Both work in conjunction to make us mean, lean, weigh-loss machines.

After I found Krista's site, I spent the better part of the night pouring over the pages. Allow me to share with you one of my favorite quotes:

"Here's one of the best things about weight training: in the long run having more muscle mass increases your basal metabolic rate (BMR), or how many calories you burn going about your daily activity. Your body has to work harder to keep that muscle up, so a muscular person just sitting on the couch will burn more calories than someone with low muscle and high bodyfat. Competitive bodybuilders have to eat like crazed hippos to keep their muscle mass from disappearing... 4000-6000 calories a day for these guys is not uncommon. Although this is a challenge we will probably never have to face ("My Gawd, I have to eat this whole wheel of Brie and then wash it down with some fried chicken! Oh, the humanity!"), the principle is nevertheless applicable to us. Simply put, a greater relative muscle mass equals a faster metabolism and thus easier maintenance of a lower relative body fat. Got lots of muscle? Then you can eat more food than your sedentary sisters."

Eating like a crazed hippo. Heh heh. O, the imagry!

After careful reading, the only thing I don't agree with her on is her deal against pink dumbbells. I would absolutely froth at the mouth to get anything over 10 lbs in a shocking shade of flamingo. Of course, I love pink and I could care less about the "oh-my-goodness-it's-a-pink-dumbbell-how-dare-they-that-suggests-I'm-*only*-a-woman!" complex so many chicks deal with. Hey, what can I say, I'm not a feminist...give me pale pink and turquoise in iron any day over dull metal grey.

I've gotten back on track with my eating, although I will never be one of these "French-Fry, Get Thee Behind Me!" kind of fanatics. Don't I wish. The truth is, I'd rather wallow my fat butt in a huge bucket of pizza rolls any day over whole wheat bread and fresh tuna. That's just the way I'm made. I know, however, that trying to live on a staple of fried foods is only going to get me where I am currently am, and that is Fatsville. Okay, fine, so I'm fat...but I'm on the way to being Fit. Can't beat that as a mind set, now can you? The only thing, however, that I absolutely refuse to give up beyond any amount of persuasion is my coffee, the way I like it; two to three cups a day, loaded with fat-free creamer, Splenda, and (of course) fully caffeinated. I'll give up my Oreos, I'll suffer through fried chicken-less nights, I'll even turn over my chocolate moonpies, but if I can't have my coffee the way I want it then I might as well pack this thing up and go trade candy bars with Michael Moore.

On second thought...that's incentive in itself to get fit, knowutimean?

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