Fatty McFat Fat

Day: Three Hundred and Forty One

Photo taken on Friday, July 8, 2011 at my Surge desk at 1005am.

Normal desk. Normal desk chair.

Not normal thigh circumference. Makes for an uncomfortable situation whenever I need to type.

I have massive quads, tiny hammies, and a cute little tush but there was a time when I had HUGE everything from the waist down. I am blissfully unaware of this fact until Dad points it out to me when I'm home on vacation as a senior in college. I haven't been able to get my jeans past my thighs for a few months now so I have resorted to wearing only cargo pants and corduroys. As I am bending over the sink to wash a dish (not a normal occurrance) Dad speaks up from behind his paper.

"Katie, you've put on some weight."

I look down at my flat stomach. "Um, I don't think I have," I say, now starting to feel unsure of myself. Maybe all those late night trips to TBell are finally starting to show.

Dad presses the issue by standing up and waving his hand around one of his thighs and a butt cheek. "In this area."

I turn from the sink, outraged and sputtering. "I'm not fat! That's from playing hockey!" He looks at me over his rims, throwing me the I-was-born-at-night-but-not-last-night look. I throw down the towel, walk to the center of the room, and assume a hockey position, full squat with fake stick lying across my legs. "This is what I do in order to play. Sitting in an imaginary chair for two hours straight makes my legs look like this."

A pause. A skeptical look. A tsk. And back to the morning paper.

Well, I never!

Keep On Runnin'

Day: Three Hundred and Eighteen

Photo taken on Wednesday, June 15, 2011 in Bossdad's office after my run at 431pm.

Charlie bought me this Nike sports shirt for my birthday and when I go to sign out today for lunch, Cassandra reads it:

"With a trash talking shirt like that you better pass people when you're running today!"

I didn't even think about that! She's totally right! I have no choice but to run my three miles as fast as I possibly can and luckily I do pass some people. But then there are those that blow by me and I am happy to say, they are running too fast to read my shirt so I am in the clear.

My Hero!

Day: Two Hundred and Eighty Six

Photo taken on Saturday, May 14, 2011 at Justin's new apartment in Plainview, NY at 1135pm.

Justin is using his superhero strength to pick up my 180 pound frame specifically for this shot. I entertain the idea of fumbling around with my camera to watch him squirm under my weight but I thought that to be too cruel to do to a good friend. Especially since he let us come over to play Marvels and I drink two of his cream sodas during the game.

When I first arrive this afternoon, he is decked out in a camouflage tee and I make it known to him that he is not dressed up in a Batman shirt and this disappoints me. So Justin disappears into his room only to come back donning a retro Batman shirt instead which totally makes my night.

Super Strength + Vintage Batman = Awesomeness

Thunder Thighs

Day: Two Hundred and Forty Six

Photo taken on Monday, April 4, 2011 in the Surge bathroom at 309pm.

Moma wanted me to come down this past weekend to run the Ukrops Monument Avenue 10k and once I find out you are allowed to participate while wearing a costume I am so totally in. As I put my “Dark Angel” garb in my carry-on Thursday night, I search the apartment for my body glide but it appears the stick has disappeared during the slow-going process of packing up the apartment. I give up after awhile thinking, “it’s just a 10k, how bad can the chaffing between my thighs get?”

Bad actually. Very very bad.

By mile four my stride shortens considerably so the stinging lessens a bit but when I finish, I’m walking like I’ve ridden a horse (or a cowboy) for 15 hours straight. When I hit the showers I am momentarily breathless as the water runs over the raw flesh but luckily it has scabbed over two days later and I can wear jeans comfortably again.

I have to splice the pictures today because trying to get a shot of both my thighs at once looks very pornographic. Even though I am wearing underwear and everything is adequately covered, I still feel it looks like an amateur crotch shot. Plus my underwear selection for today is bordering on embarrassing with its stripes and little pink bows.

Mind over Matter

Day: Two Hundred and Forty One

Photo taken on Wednesday, March 30, 2011 in my office at 827am.

For some reason I go to bed feeling quite normal only to wake up five months pregnant. (Yeah, you're right docs. There's absolutely nothing wrong with me.)

Being that I have prided myself on my flat tummy all my life I am not a fan of this bloating thing at all. I am now down to two pairs of pants that fit and the pain I have been experiencing today is beyond excruciating not to mention the trouble in the bathroom (don't worry, I won't mention the bathroom trouble). At three different times today, I am surprised when I feel wetness leak out of my eyes and onto my work in front of me.

I'm crying?! I'm crying I'm in so much pain?! That's it. I have had enough.

My Mind and Body are two separate entities. When they work in tandem they are fantastic, for instance: when my Body was breaking last Saturday during my 13 mile trail run and I seriously felt like my right knee was going to give out the Mind took over, coaching the Body through the pain until we accomplished the mileage we set out to do.

But the Body sometimes screws the Mind over like when the Mind is eagerly awaiting getting off the train and wants to play with the Indo Board, the Body walks through the door and decides they would rather lounge on the couch and do some Netflixing. It's like, "Work out? Nah, we have a few episodes left of Season 3 of Arrested Development. Maybe tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes and the Body makes another excuse, "oh my knee still hurts, Tiger Balm it for me, Mind. Thanks."

The Mind tries everything today to relieve the pressure in the stomach: changing positions, going for a walk in the park, drinking lots of fluids but the pain never subsides...until around 215pm when the Body eases up to let the Mind know it's hungry. The Mind couldn't even finish the peppermint hot chocolate purchased for her this morning, that's how bad the Body was acting.

The Body may win over Mind when it comes to working out but the Mind is strong willed and stubborn. So when the Body sends the hungry signal to the Mind, the Mind being extremely tired and pissed off from the emotional damage the pain from the Body causes today, decides not to respond. The Body is like, "Hey Mind. Um, I'm not in as much pain anymore, want to go get some lunch?"

And Mind, being the stubborn ass it always is replies, "Hey Body. You can go fuck yourself."

In The Cut

Day: Two Hundred and Twenty Five

Photo taken on Monday, March 14, 2011 in the bathroom at 953pm.

We don't have to beat around the bush here. We're all adults, we understand my plight with this issue...

I have big boobs.

Abnormally large TaTas. A jugtactular rack. However you want to describe this nuisance dangling from my weak chest muscles is fine by me but I know they are a size I wish they weren't. I have flirted with the idea of a breast reduction for years now and probably would have wanted one in the fifth grade when they annoyingly budded early, well before most of my classmates. I would happily trade them in for something smaller especially since no matter how high tech my sports bra is, it leaves behind lasting damage. Maybe it was a good thing I broke my foot before the wedding. It enabled the deep cuts on my shoulders to be less visible in the professional pictures.

Speaking of pictures, most people have subfolders in their digital picture section of their computer that probably say things like: "My Awesome 27th Birthday!", "Vaycay in Cali 2009!", "Surprise Pool Party!". I have a subfolder that says: "Case Against Boobs". This is the folder that pictures like the one above go, the ones to show my insurance company the damage my Bazooka Joes inflict open other parts of my body in hopes they will pay for the reduction. I have even racier photos, ones when the underwire has bruised my breasts because I participated in a trail run with lots of hills. I'm sure those would look hot on an amateur site!

They also get in the way of normal day to day things like reaching across the table for a chip only to find half my right breast covered in salsa. Sometimes when I lean forward something brushes across my stomach and I freak out thinking there's a bug in my shirt but then I realize it's just my boobs resting on my abs. I'm also pretty sure I'd knock five minutes off my 10k time if I had less knockers because half my energy is wasted in the pendulum swing.

Most girls want bigger breasts but I hope my torn skin might sway you to stay small. Size shouldn't matter but it really does...the bigger they are, the more they hurt. ;p

I think I can, I think I can.

Day: One Hundred and Fifty Five

Photo taken on Monday, January 3, 2011 in our bedroom at 803pm.

The first time I am introduced to TRX it is at one of my mom's personal training sessions with Mary. Both are totally cool with letting me drop in to try this exceptional workout tool. I immediately fall in love with it when we begin the core exercises because it takes something simple like a plank and turns it into a circus act. The hammie pull-ins hurt like hell but I love how deep I can get into a squat. And then it's the triceps turn...

In the picture I just quickly pretend to struggle with the horrible exercise but really I'm not attempting it yet and the TRX is not even set up at the moment but I had to pose this for Moma. She totally kicks my butt at this one! As we are banging out a set of 15 in the session, Moma is doing it double time compared to me and I can't even straighten my arms! They are literally shaking so bad I can't even complete a full rep. I couldn't wait for the exercise to end and for the rest of my visit I imitate myself trying to push back by holding my breath while shaking my arms and it sends Moma into a laughing fit.

One of my Christmas gifts this year is my very own set of TRX bands! I absolutely love them and look forward to perfecting that damn side plank. Thank you very much for this gift, Moma! It is definitely going to get a lot of use during my ninja training! ^_\

Get in the Game

Day: One Hundred and Fifty Three

Photo taken on Friday, January 1, 2011 in the living room at 641pm.

I have finally found the time to play EA Sports Active More Workouts which Steve bought me last Christmas. That's right. It has taken me over a year to play this game. I definitely like it even though I can't make my person a little bit curvier like I could in the last game. It has some different workouts but so far nothing is as excruciating as that damn rollerblading board on the first release.

I love interactive video games, especially these "get fit" ones because it doesn't feel like working out at all, more like just a fun way to pretend to actually do something without having to actually do something. It's perfect for rainy/snowy days or when a bunch of people come over and you want to challenge each other to a bowling match without having to put on someone else's stinky shoes. Sure there are some hard exercises (like when I had to do 100 jackknives in a row or 20 "leg ups" after doing a run outside) but it's mostly just about being a kid again.

Though Steve likes when I play these games because more often than not, the motion detector doesn't read me and he laughs as I shout at the TV while angrily flailing the controller about.

Holiday Road

Day: Thirty Six

Photo taken on Monday, September 6, 2010 in the hallway at 845am.

Kim bought me these comfy pjs for my birthday this year and today when I put on my sports bra I finally could see the decal on it clearly (usually it's hidden under my saggy boobs). The moment I see it I have one thought...The Griswolds going to the beach. Swap out that surfboard for an oversized Christmas tree and you have yourself a National Lampoon stay wag.

Scraps

Day: Six

Photo taken around 11pm really quickly because I lost track of time today. I really have nothing creative to show you so instead here is my newest injury:

The first time I leave for a Hawks game in my green lacrosse shorts, Steve takes one look at me and warns, "You really should wear pants if you're going to slide."

I wave him off. "Pssh. I'm not going to slide."

Three hours later I return with a dirt and blood smattered left leg.

"I slid." I manage a sheepish grin and he just shakes his head in disappointment.

At least I was safe.

So now before heading off to a game I wrap my calf in an ace bandage (because right now I'm nursing an on-going running injury there anyway) so it adds sliding protection and then I place knee-high softball socks over it. Needless to say, I still receive raspberries sliding into that damn second base! People tell me I should wear pants but on certain occasions the dirt would rip my skin up through my Tri-Village issued uniform pants anyway. I was like half my size back then so I think my weight is the leading factor to me constantly hurting myself because really, no one weighing in at 175 should ever run as fast as they can and slide in dirt. The physics of it just points to disaster.