All About Me: in which even my personal trainer tells me I'm self-absorbed

So, you know how I implied that Malibu Stacey was sort of mean and controlling and pushy and only gives half high fives if you accidentally "fake-lose" 5% of your body fat when you stop running and eat mostly cookies for a week, because she uses a new body fat measuring thingy, in that earlier post?

You knew I was lying, right?

Also, when I implied that she's all full of herself and mostly just wants to look good in pictures in case talent scouts from The Biggest Loser, or some other reality trainer show could be reading this blog and maybe they want to create an entirely new reality show all about Stacey and her hunky personal trainer/paramedic husband named Big Jonnie?

Also lying.

I mean, you know, the truth is, she's actually very nice. And she's smart, too. 

For instance, Malibu Stacey quickly figured out that I try to distract her from making me work hard at doing all her ridiculous exercises by telling her funny little jokes and stories. Yes, yes, most people figure this out, eventually.

So Smart Stacey started telling me her own funny little stories, to distract me, while I lifted the weights. And I gladly listened to them for a while, as I did more reps, that she pretended to count, even though I doubt she did.

The distracting me while I lift thing worked for a little bit, because even though I like to hear my own self talk, I do love a good story teller, and this girl is good.

But this week, Stacey sneakily upped the amount of weight on those fancy machines I've been using at Snap Fitness while I wasn't looking, and she just kept talking. And every time I started whining, she switched to another funny story.

She thought I wouldn't notice.

Julie: "My arms don't work."

Stacey: "Really?" she said. "Like, sore muscles?"

Julie: "No, like I really can't lift this thing. I mean, seriously."

Stacey: "Oh, sure you can, just do it, here, I'll get you started; nine more...so anyway, my husband said,"

Julie: "No, wait, I'm serious, this is really hard! What's wrong with me? It's really hard this week. Maybe I'm sick or something? This is so weird. Do I have a fever?"

Stacey: "You're not even listening to my story. Seven more."

Julie: "I do want to hear all about Jonnie, believe me, I do...ow."

Stacey: "Five more. I see. As long as you're telling the story it's fine, but the minute I start talking, you have to change the subject..."

Julie: "No, (ow) I'm trying to listen, it's just that my arms aren't working,"

Stacey: "Three more. Is it always all about you?"

Julie: "Listen (ow!) maybe I'm just low on energy, I didn't sleep very well. This is so hard! I did it last week!"

Stacey: "Three more. Oh. I upped that another 20 pounds this week. Maybe that's why."

Julie: "What? You said three more last time! I'm dying here! Twenty more pounds? Ow."

Stacey: "Yes! Look how strong you are. Two more."

Julie: "OW!"

Stacey: (whispers) "Don't say ow! I have a new client over there waiting for you me. I don't want her to think this hurts, it's her first time!"

Julie: "Fine. Just lie to her."

Stacey: "You're done! Wow, good for you. High five!"

Julie: "As if. I can't lift my arm, Stacey."

Stacey: "Here we go again...all about you, you, you."

(By the way, this photo was taken by Lisa Flynn, of Whipper Snapper Studios, who saw Stacey bossing me around on Facebook and called her to ask if Stacey could boss her around too. If you want to work with Stacey at Snap Fitness, let us know, Snap may even give you a Chubby Mommy Running Club discount!)

Golf Day with some Twits

For those of you who aren't on Twitter yet, just get over there and do it. You can meet all kinds of fun strangers on Twitter, and some day, you might even end up golfing with them. That's what happened to me.

Here is @nelsoneroni, for instance.

And here is @erinfelder, who delights in making her putts, as you can see:


And then there's @jenfloyd08, who plays so many sports that she often combines them to be more efficient with her time:


I, on the other hand, am a bit of a golf novice. Yesterday was the 5th time I've officially golfed. I lost a few balls when they hit trees (I didn't realize the trees had magnets in them, which attract the magnets in the balls - it's all so mysterious, really...)

Surprisingly, one of the balls I grabbed from my bag wasn't a real ball. It was lip gloss inside a fake ball. I got it at the Jeld Wen golf tournament last year at Sunriver. I thought it was clever, but then forgot about it. Turns out if you take a hard swing at a lip gloss golf ball, it shatters.

But the lip gloss still works!

I think we should have more Twitter Golf tournaments. It's a great way to get to know people in real life, and somehow justify all the time you waste online when you might be working, or something.

You can say things like "Oh, but I'm networking!" and "@nelsoneroni and I are going to do a cable access show, and we had to interview these other Twitter ladies to see if they'd join us for the synchronized swimming, and hula-hoop segments!"

Because then maybe your whole golf outing could be a tax write-off, and save you enough money in the long run to make a case for buying some cute golf-shoes.

Maybe.

The Moldy Costco Lifestyle

I find it hard to stick to my healthy eating plan when we get low on groceries.

I need my chicken and turkey to not be slimy, and wilted lettuce, bend-y carrots, and shriveled apples make me sigh and reach for peanut butter toast.

So last night I went to Costco and stocked up on the fresh. Now the problem is how to eat all these super-size containers of fruits and veggies before they get moldy in the heat.

I know I must enlist the help of the children to eat all of this produce. They will happily eat almost any fruit or vegetable that's washed, dried and put out in front of them, preferably on a hand made plate from a local artist, perhaps with a sprig of parsley and radish flower for garnish.

Too bad Martha Stewart isn't their mother.

I never have enough room in my fridge for all this stuff that lands in my cart at Costco, so I usually put the produce on the porch at night, where Bend's late spring temperatures can still drop down to 40'. I'm so clever to have thought of this, I think.

My problem is I always forget to bring bring everything back inside before noon, when the thermometer can climb back up to 88' on a good day, and close to 100' on a hot day.

So, then, you know, everything starts to mold. Then it gets cold at night again, so the mold gets cold, but it's still mold. Then it heats up again, so it's...not so good after a few days, which makes my husband frown.

"Why do you spend so much money on these science experiments?" He asks. "You could just leave the same bag of lemons out there all summer, you don't have to keep buying new bags on Mondays just to throw them away on Sundays."

So now it's time to make lemonade. And fruit salad. And lovely plates of fancy veggies artistically arranged around bowls of hand crafted hummus and what-not.

Except I'm the only one who eats hummus around here, and I don't even like it that much, so it always, you know, goes bad after a week or so, and sits in the back of the fridge, taking up space.

Martha, where are you when I need you? Also, could you clean out my fridge so I'll have more room in there for all this beautiful, fresh stuff?

Running Like the Wind

For heaven's sake, who ordered all this wind? Today it felt like I was running in slow motion, but I didn't look nearly as graceful as those boys in Chariots of Fire.

Good thing this blog isn't sponsored by Donald Trump...I don't think my hair would stand up to the competition's.

Oh well, at least I ran. I didn't yesterday, because it was rainy and cold and I was a wimp. So that means I'm no longer averaging one run a day. I suppose I could run twice tomorrow, but that seems like a lot of work.

Must keep trying, not crying. Also, I must remember my hairband tomorrow.

Run, run as fast as you can...

Officially, this economy sucks.

Self-employed people like my husband and me are used to hustling for work, but lately we seem to have to hustle harder to get the kinds of contracts that used to come to us easily.

Unofficially, I'm still the same old cheerful, pithy @juliejulie, and I'm still happy to wake up every day to see what the day brings. I'm still willing to force the day to bring me something.

But for real? Stress can take it's toll, even on me. Stress gives me insomnia, which can be a bit of a drag, when you choose a busy life like I do, where people expect to see high energy from 6:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m.

So, I have new thing I'm doing to combat stress: whenever I feel the teeniest bit overwhelmed, I go for a walk or a run. I've been averaging 2 walks and one run a day. If my knees hold out, I should be in great shape by June.

Here's a picture of me after my mother's day run. I think I went 4 miles, but I was on trails and didn't know the exact distance. It sure felt like four miles! I'm running far enough now that I have to start brining a water bottle. This is a good sign.

So far, so good on my stress-fighting program. I'm sleeping well, and Stacey says I'm getting stronger, and lifting more weight at my workouts than I was last month when I started with her.

Plus, I just saw Star Trek today and I love how cute those Star Fleet gals look in their short dresses. I'm hoping all this running will make my legs short-skirt worthy. Except the What Not To Wear people say I can't wear anything too short, since I'm 43 now.

Anyone else have ways to deal with stress?

When Good Trainers Go Bad

This is what it sounds like at Snap Fitness in Bend, when I go in for my personal training sessions with Malibu Stacey:

@juliejulie: "So, you really have to weigh me today?"

Malibu Stacey: "Yes, we said every two weeks."

@juliejulie: "But I had sort of a bad week. I didn't exercise much and well, I sort of fell off the wagon on the food thing."

Malibu Stacey: "Get on the scale."

@juliejulie: "Oh look. Not so good."

Malibu Stacey: "Huh. Why does this NOT surprise me? Let's check your body fat."

@juliejulie: "Why?"

Malibu Stacey: "Hold this thingy. Now."

@juliejulie: "Fine."

Malibu Stacey: "Wow. This doesn't seem right...you've actually lost 3% of your body fat. Hmm..."

@juliejulie: "Really? I rock! I should stop running and eat junk every week!"

Malibu Stacey: "No. Last time we used the other thingy to measure, this time we have a new thingy. It must be the thingy."

@juliejulie: "Killjoy."

Malibu Stacey: "Fine. I'll still give you a high five, or maybe a half of one. I don't really trust this thingy. But, you know, good job."

@juliejulie: "Are you going to eat the rest of that Calzone?"

Malibu Stacey: "Let's go do some wall sits."

@juliejulie: "I HATE wall sits, Stacey!"

Malibu Stacey: "I know."