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Victory!

I finally made it through a session without failing on the chest flys. Go me!

Last night I had Cuddle McGentlekins who is rapidly moving into the Most Favorite Trainer position. I dragged my somewhat dejected feeling self into the gym, wondering if I had the physical or emotional energy to get into it yet in the back of my mind, I knew I’d feel better once I got into a groove. Oh, I was so right.

We’re up to 20 pound weights on the wall lunges and I still blitz through them, though CM really works it. The interesting thing is that he really inspires me to push myself a little harder so I used everything I had to dip myself down even lower, a hard thing for me because my knees hurt so much sometimes. But I got through them with a fair amount of ease. CM told me he’s increasing my weights the next session. The lateral row is up to 60 pounds and oomph that one’s a bitch, especially in the beginning. But I plowed through that one and put up a damn good fight when he pushed down on the handles to increase the resistance. And resist I did.

When we started to move to the chest flys, inspiration hit. I’ve been going nuts trying to figure out why I always fail on this one and asked if we could do the abductor next instead of the flys. Between the 20 pound weights and then the row, I thought maybe giving my arms a slight rest would make a difference. The abductor gets very difficult towards the end and fortunately CM is encouraging and pushes me with just the right words, nothing trite. He makes sure I know when we’re almost done which is important to me because when I get near the end, I usually can find a burst of strength and finish off.

Chest flys? Still suck. But, this was the first time that my left arm didn’t go completely limp. I think CM went a bit easy on me but he insists he did not. Either way, I finished the reps and wow, what a good feeling to finally “conquer” that evil bitch. I was definitely sweating by the end of it, which is a good thing because I know I really pushed.This is the machine:

Basically you stand with your back against it and reach waaaaaay out to the handles and bring your arms together almost straight out in front of you. It hurts.

Finally, we did a new abs workout. CM was a bit tentative when he asked if I was up for a new challenge, explaining this was a pretty advanced. I almost jumped up and down with excitement. Stupid, I know, but I was really proud to realize not only did he want to try something advanced, but that I’d progressed so far to have attained that state. Seriously, I just felt so…strong.

CM took me over to this cable column machine sort of like this one:

I remarked that if PJ wanted to make some extra cash, he could rent this facility out at night for S&M parties. Seriously, this machine is far more evil looking in person.

Anyway, will try to explain this. The pulleys were at the bottom of the column. I lay flat on my belly in front of the machine and hooked my feet, toes down, through the triangles so they were dangling maybe 10-12 inches above the floor. Propped myself up by my elbows and arc my hips as high as they could go so my body was in an inverted V. While in the arc, move my knees in towards my chest, out again, and then my body parallel to the floor. Sort of like a push up but much more brutal. I think he called it a TX or something like that. I did 10 of them and then would rest. Then 5 and rest, 3 and rest, back to 5, etc.

What was really interesting is that while I was in a rep, I did pretty well and while not easy, they weren’t impossible. But during the rest cycle, I would lay flat on the ground for about 2-3 seconds and then prop up again and that was the hardest part - raising back up from a resting position.

I completed the whole rep not easily because it was hard work but it was so damn fun. I felt this strange sensation of accomplishment, of beating my own intimidation not just of the machines but of “building” my body. It never really crossed my mind that I could be one of “those” people who used weight machines or did strength & core training. Me? Little old me? Nah, I’m a treadmill and elliptical kind of girl, right?

Oh hell no, wrong. Wrong!

And it makes a difference in so many ways. I feel more confident in my body. Not from an aesthetic standpoint because I still think I look awful. But I feel…strong. For example, the other night I was in a semi-dicey area walking and some shady looking dudes were around by the bus stop. I heard some hey-baby type calls and ignored them, walking along. But in my mind, in my head, I felt very little concern for my safety. I have said before that one of my irrational fears is being pushed into a street. Well, that fear is waning…fast. As I walked past the homies, deep in my mind, I knew that if something happened, I now had the strength and ability to fight back and defend myself. The grossly inflated ego said, “oh yah uh huh, kickin ALL YALL’s asses” which isn’t likely, but there was definitely a knowledge that I was no longer literally a pushover. And that propelled me into a more confident walk. It was strangely empowering.

Now if I could just get the rest of my life in the same order. But for now, I finished strong and happy. CM asked me what I thought and I almost asked to do more. I told him I loved it and he laughed saying I’m probably the only person who ever said that. But to me, that was fun, sort of like playing. I said it was a great feeling to hit it that strong and that I could do more, as I started to stand up.

Boom. Flat on my face.

WOW…my legs had gone completely limp for a second. Love it. I laughed, he stared in terror. I told him it was all good, no hurt although I probably would be hurting tomorrow. Was just that my legs had worked super hard and threw me for a loop when I stood up. It was funny.

Cute Cat Alert

Some cute snuggling cat pictures.

Yeah that’s right, I’m getting the love and snugs and cuddles. Of course, next week it will be back to National Geographic’s Land of the Starfish when he punishes me for…wait for it….

…leaving him alone for 3 days. Why am I leaving him alone for three days?

….wait for it….

Because I got a really fab early birthday present and I’m going to Vegas with it. And I’m staying in a huge pretty shiny hotel with room and spa services. So, if you’re so inclined, feel free to tell room service to bring me birthday cake. Because I never, EVER get birthday cake. In fact, my guess is that you could probably contact the concierge and order me up some really pretty men….but not too pretty, we want them fawning over me, not each other…

Update: OK, don’t wait for it. Because I’m a moron and miscalculated my own work deadlines. Well, I may still be going to Vegas, I just won’t be there for my birthday. In other words (begin whining), no cake and no celebration on my birthday again this year. Dammit.

New Look

Comments are open - looking for feedback on the new blog layout.

Update: OK, is this one better? Fixed width, only two columns.

Squeeeeing For Dollars

I recently emailed a woman who successfully managed to turn her blog(s) into books. Initially I wrote to ask her if she was going to be in the Seattle area because I’d already purchased her book(s) and would love to meet her and have at least one signed. I received a standard pasted response something to the effect of:

“Hi!! Thanks so much for your email! Unfortunately I have been SWAMPED lately with all of your fantastic notes and can’t respond to you personally! But if you look at my web site, I’m SURE you’ll find the answers to all your questions, SQUEEEE! Of course yes I’m busy writing my NEXT book (WHEEEE!) and if you would like to be on the PRIORITY mailing list so you can get a copy as SOOOOON as it comes out (OMFG YAY), go to this page and you can get updates.”

Quotation marks above were for emphasis, it was not a (completely) direct quote. I replied to the auto email just to see if perhaps there’d be a chance at getting the info I was seeking. My reply was something like this:

“Hi there, I totally understand how swamped you must be. I did look on your site and didn’t see any mention of upcoming appearances. Am I looking in the right place? Regardless, I have really enjoyed your books, you have a great sense of humor and I love how you can laugh at yourself almost as much as some of the other people in your stories. Your writing style is very unique and it’s funny because I had a hard time with it at first but now even though I’ve never heard your voice, I can completely imagine talking to you. Congratulations on your good fortune in being able to segue from blogging to authoring, that’s a enviable accomplishment. It’s so great to see someone take a talent that clearly comes easy for them (like writing from the heart) and make a living from it”

And then the shit hit. Yes, I was definitely testing to see if it truly was an automated reply and the answer is “Hell no”. Because the next email informed me that it was not “good fortune” to get a book contract, it was hard work and dedication and who the hell was I to act like some grammar patrol and “get the bitch on” about her writing style and I know nothing about what it’s like to create characters and make other people see them, writing is a DISCIPLINE and if I think it’s “so easy” to turn a blog to a book, maybe I should “try keeping an updated blog for a while and then come tell me how easy it is”.

Oh, now it’s ON. Bitch.

In my next email, I wrote that I had not mentioned in our correspondences much about who I was or my own personal writing because I wanted to compliment her directly and not make it look like I was trying to compete or compare (something I learned from trying to make nice with the local author of Breakup Babe who, after learning about Attraversiamo, made several really asshat comments about me that eventually made their way back to me, I think I threatened her “space”) myself to her. That I’d passed on a couple of chances to pursue the path of blog-to-book because I didn’t feel I could make the time nor did I have the confidence that I had enough relevant material to write a book. But then again, I could just repeat the same 4 themes over and over as she did in her series and clearly become wildly SQUEEEE popular. However, my choice was to keep the adventures of my life completely free to anybody who wanted to share and come along with me for the ride, no advertisements on my site, no “members only” section for people who wanted to pay a premium for me to say “SQUEEEEE” every 3rd sentence (for the record, I only say Squeee when there’s something I would literally say “wheee” about out loud), and while a couple of times I have turned to my blog readers for help and they came through in droves, I just wanted to stay where I was and was secure in that decision. I then informed her that I’d been writing on a near-daily basis for five years and have written well over 2,000 8 1/2 x 11 pages of text, at least half of which was pretty well done. And to kiss my sagging ass.

I then noticed in the last 3 or 4 days that not only have my hits nearly doubled, 3 or 4 people from a couple of Very Large Metropolitan Cities have spent in excess of 25 hours on my site. Then this morning I got another note from this auto-generating person. It was an apology. Well, mostly. What it really was more than anything was a “come join MY side” as she ranted and bitched about all these horrible people who smacked her down and criticized her writing style when they are clearly morons and oh isn’t it just so hard to be great writers like…”us”?

And she’d be happy to send me a personally signed copy of her latest book,from one blogger to another. Clearly I’m of the same ilk and now a worthy Writing Comrade. And oh, by the way, SQUEEEEE, would I mind dropping these Amazon links to all of her books on my front page with some blurby write ups telling my readers how much we have in common and get along?

I replied asking if I sent her books back to her, would she refund my money since I’ve now lost all respect for her.

What a bitch. Honestly, what a horrible attitude to take. Oh it just burns my ass and you have no idea how hard it is not to tell you who she is. But I won’t because she and her SQUEEEE books aren’t getting a single mention on my site. Up yours, honey. And I hope you don’t come to Seattle, for your sake. Because you can bet your squeeeing yap that I’ll be there in the front row, picking holes in every story you tell, clarifying every inconsistency (oh sorry, “creative license”), and more.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

PS: For those of you who keep encouraging me to pursue turning my writing into a book or series of books, this is exactly the epitome of why I won’t do it. Your gifts and assistance and kindnesses and encouragement and presents (squee), have meant so much to me. Many of you went so far to help me and give back and you are here with me day in and day out…I just can’t ever see myself trying to make an actual profit from it. I write because I love it. I get paid to write, albeit on a more technical level. But that just means that I get to do it during the day for a profession and at night…out of love.

Squeeeeeee.

The Accidental Wonderful Day

Saturday turned into one of the most fuzzy-laden lovely days…well…one of the most. Period.

Woke up early despite a bit of a hangover from a “let’s go to Happy Hour for a little while” jaunt that turned into a 4+ hour thing. Went for a walk, had my coffee, and got some stuff done around the home. Before heading out for my session, I pinged a new friend and we made plans to meet near his place on the hill for coffee after training since I was going to be in the area.

I had my session and it was the same person as last week. Unfortunately, it was pretty much the same attitude and I’m bothered enough that I’ve requested this person not train me again in the future. Yes, the workout was a bit more challenging and I’m really feeling it in my arms and abs today which is very much a good thing. But, I don’t get that Happy feeling from this person who is now called Blah. Terrible name for a person and I don’t mean it in an unkind way, I just generally get this “blah” vibe. Totally not there with me. Words come out of her mouth and are directed my way but no sincerity. My favorite was when I was completely failing on the chest fly and my left arm had totally collapsed and I was leaning so hard to try to get it to come in that I was losing my footing, she said (not even looking my way) “That’s it, I’m so proud of you (pause while she looks up my name on her clipboard)….Marybeth”. Any other one of my kids would have snorted and gotten me back into form. During the wall lunges, she said to do ten and that she’d count them out for me. I was going so fast (because it was so easy) and she was paying so little attention that by the time she’d counted to 7, I’d already done about 15 of them. Which I found strangely exciting in that I was doing so well that my trainer wasn’t even noticing. And yes, I told her to make it harder. I think I’m up to 15 or 20 pound hand weights with the lunges and 60 pounds on the lateral row. Oh, and the abs? Puhleeeeze. Gimmee more. I was doing reverse pole crunches so hard and so fast the girl just sort of gave up counting.

I rule.

And really annoying me was that she was 10 minutes late starting and cut that time off MY workout. If I wasn’t paying out my sexy underwear and beauty maintenance fund to cover this membership, I’d let it slide a bit more. But when I have to save for over a month for a cut & color and am beginning to wonder if I can sell Splenda packets that I swiped from work on EBay to buy some new panties, I want my money’s worth.

Still, I felt great after, in part because I really did have to guide myself. And since she paid zero attention to my form (once in a while she’d say arbitrary things like to drop my shoulder or take a bigger breath, I wouldn’t do it and she’d still praise me for doing it), I was really trying to do it on my own and succeeded. People like Cuddles and Sunshine and Basher have spent enough time drilling better form into me that I’m more aware of it on my own and a very special thanks to Sunshine for finally helping me understand how to “tighten” my abs when working them (basically it’s sucking your whole torso in and holding it tight without holding your breath or using any other part of your body to hold it in…not like holding in your stomach, but sucking it in from within) because now I do that and TOTALLY feel a difference when I’m exercising.

I ran upstairs and did my best to spackle my face which has broken out to epic proportions, even slightly painfully. I know why. It’s because I ran out of my good cleansing products and bought some cheap shit at a drug store to get me by, feeling a twinge of guilt after the little snark attack from the commenter who snarked that she had to use drugstore haircolor. Well, honey, I did the drugstore hair color and the drugstore facial cleaner and my hair is fried & split now, and my face torn open and oozing so bite me.

Anyway. Spackled with the good cosmetics (I dare anybody to challenge me on using good makeup), brushed out the hair, and put on some “daring” clothes. For me, that included ultra low waisted cargo shorts in a size 2. Not a good look but they did fit. Too low of a rise. But I wore them anyway. Sleeveless black shirt. Ooo wee, two articles of scary clothing, sleeveless and low rise. Look at me, I’m taking chances.

I got to the Hill and there was my guy. Well, he isn’t “my guy” in the technical dating sense of the word. But he’s someone I met a week or two ago and we’ve seen each other a few times now. I don’t know how many “dates” we’ve had, I think only one and that’s a partial one. According to him (this was after several drinks and 5 hours), it didn’t start as a date but ended as one. I don’t know what our other outings would be. Maybe yesterday was another date that didn’t start as one, I will have to get the parameters from him. We seem to have this pattern of meeting up with the initial intent of it being for an hour or two and then 4 or 6 hours later saying, “OK, so I really really have to go now”. Such was the case yesterday. Plan was coffee and then I had to run errands early so I could be home before all the streets closed for the Torchlight Parade.

Coffee morphed into an impromptu lunch invitation. Bless his heart, he didn’t even beat me when we left the second restaurant that I couldn’t eat at. OK, in my defense. I said I was hungry for soup at first (61 in late July…I was shivering) so we went to a place that he said had great soups. The selections were chilled strawberry, zucchini & dill, or some veggie curry thing. Really, none sounded remotely appetizing, the strawberry one made my stomach scream just thinking about it, and well…eww. So we went to a second restaurant that proclaimed it was serving “brunch”. The “brunch” menu consisted of eggs, eggs, eggs, pancakes, waffles, eggs, and a spicy tofu scramble. Fortunately, he looked about as uninterested as I, and I was almost in tears worrying about what to order that would be nourishing and not have me on the floor in pain within 2 hours.

We left and he took me to his favorite Italian bistro place. OK, pasta and cheeses. That’s OK, I’m eating here, I’ll find something. Sure enough, there was a delicious chicken breast in creamy baked sauce with some pita bread. Oh, it was fabulous. A little too rich but really fantastic. We ate and talked. OK, more broken cycles - I ate with someone. Go me.

After lunch, we got some more coffee and began to walk. And talk. And walk. He took me to Volunteer Park and we walked through the grounds, through the conservatory, stood on the hills and admired the gorgeous day and the city views. We kept walking along the streets, holding hands and doing that annoying-but-cute smiley couple thing. He showed me a little area with benches further outside of the park with an amazing vantage view of Lake Washington, the mountains, the East side, north…it was gorgeous. We stayed there for a while, sort of being gross and cuddly and yes, kissy, and talking and giggling and laughing.

Finally we walked back, through the neighborhoods, looking at houses and whatnot. I’d arrived around 11 with the intent of being home by 2. It was now 4:10 and I still hadn’t been to the store. Dammit, the streets would be closed soon. I raced around, got some staples, and headed home. Attacked by a very pissed off cat who proceeded to show me a National Geographic-portion of starfish and then laid little piles of puke in perfect places for me to almost step in, the little prick. I realized that 3 nights in a row of being with This Person and not the cat was too much so we stayed and snuggled most of the night. Unfortunately all of the coffee and the heavy lunch hit me very hard and I got really sick during the night.

But I sooooo didn’t care. It was such a fantastic day. Coffee(s), lunch, walking, parks, snogging, cuddling, hand holding? Almost all of it totally impromptu. Huge X Project moment for me - not only was I wholly unprepared from an appearance standpoint (didn’t dress special, hell didn’t even shave my legs, no jewelry etc), but the whole afternoon was NOT PLANNED. For me? Huge. I need structure. I need to know I’m meeting someone at this time and will leave by that time and then be here at this time. Spontaneous scares me and yet with This Guy (we’ll find a better name if we keep seeing each other), it just seems strangely natural.

Totally just a fantastic lovely day.

My Gimmee List(s)

I’ve updated my Sephora Wish List and my Amazon Totally-Never-Gonna-Happen List. Oh wow, it’s fun to dream about all these lovely thingies that I’ll never be able to afford (well, not all of them).

This is how I keep my shopping and “gonna buy eventually” stuff in mind. And the “maybe when I win the Lotto” stuff.

And ya know, since I’m just totally daydreaming and since I’m seeing some round trip airfare + hotel for 2 or 3 nights under $200…I’ll put a plug out for Vegas gift certificates/cards. Bah ha. Hey Mom…what happens in Vegas stays there, seriously….except for that ONE little 2 minute video clip of me on You Tube but don’t worry, I don’t think my face was completely visible.

Commute Post

My “Commute With Me” post has gotten more personal email and feedback than I can even keep up with at this point, mostly sympathetic although one person (perhaps the Microsoft nose picker?) suggested I move to a smaller city if I don’t like the traffic. Ironic since this is the smallest metropolis I’ve ever lived in; do “cities” get much smaller than Seattle?

Anyway, I added Commute With Me to the Highlights page. Always interested in your favorite posts as well so I can continue to add here.

The Curse of Hotty McHotterson

Monday: Perfect hair day, flawless makeup, great mood, short skirt, high heels, look good even for me. No hot neighbor sightings.

Tuesday: Decent hair day, fab makeup, decent though somewhat introspective mood, short skirt, high heels, look better than I feel. No hot neighbor sightings.

I assume you know where this is going.

Wednesday: Feel like shaving my head and buying a wig, skin decides to break out to all hell, running late so no time to spackle it, throw on jeans, extremely high heels, sleeveless shirt that I discover too late in the getting-ready process is too short to cover my fugly belly, totally scattered and unfocused. Race out of apartment clutching 2 laptop bags, big handbag, iced coffee with no lid (well if you didn’t know where it was going before, you do now), bag of garbage. Scoot down hall to drop off trash. Take a misstep and eat a face full of floor. Stand up, wipe iced coffee off face, realize 4 buttons popped open on my little sweater and my hair now smells like Peet’s. Pick up bags. Look up.

There’s Hot Neighbor. Grinning at me and shaking head. Seriously, this guy is some sort of hex. I think he does it on purpose.

Why is it impossible to run into this guy when I’m smiling, balanced, sober, with decent hair and makeup? It’s some warped “Keep Marybeth Celibate” campaign, isn’t it?

eXorcising through eXercise

oh my god oh my god OH my GAWD. Whatever the hell is coursing through my body right now just can’t be legal. I don’t know what it is but it’s the most amazing thing in the world. I feel like I have this spirit and joy just racing through every single pore, cleansing me, taking the Bad Stuff and enveloping it until it dissolves and gets swept away.

Tonight was almost a religious experience and I’m not even remotely kidding. There’s no way I can put it into words because the only thing going through my mind right now is the sound of exhaling. Exhaling away the hurt, the anger, the stress, the fear, the sadness, every single negative cell has been exhaled and in a way exorcised. I feel like I’ve conquered something. What? I don’t know and I don’t care. Something inside me keeps telling me that I won. The funny thing is that it doesn’t even matter what I won because it’s intangible.

Today sucked on so many levels. I woke so brutally early and spent some time remembering my wedding and the day we decided to divorce. I thought about the other people involved on the periphery of our divorce, the ones who had some influence in how we saw the situation and guided us not maliciously but selfishly to the road we chose. This is not an attack, this is just fact - when someone in your life is faced with a decision, you know what you want them to do and while of course you want what’s best for them, let’s be honest, you also want what’s best for you. So I simmered and angered about that. I regretted a million times listening to certain people and two million times for the ones I did not listen to. I raged inwardly at the whole damn thing. I mourned.

I dressed far better than I felt. Nobody at work needed to see or know what I was feeling. In celebration of the day, I put my wedding band, Clint’s wedding band, and my engagement ring on the gold chain he gave me so many years ago.

At work, I focused and stayed as upbeat and cheerful as possible. I worried about my car (which has been revived at a high price and still diagnosed terminal) and what I would do. I got upset all over again at those who have take such great financial advantage of me. I snarked and waxed cynical on those in my professional life who are less kind and supportive than they could and should be. I worked hard, I finished what I said I would finish but it was hard. Oh God, today was such a struggle. I had conversations with those in my long and recent past. I let it all pile upon my shoulders. I picked up my car at the end of the day feeling like I’d been beaten and whipped all day. Nothing was spectacularly bad, I just didn’t want Today, I didn’t want any part of it. I felt like I had to fight against unseen forces all day and think I did a good job of masking the anger and hurt. But it wasn’t just a mask - I accepted all things today, just as they were. I embraced every emotion, every fear and feeling. I took it, I petted and caressed it, and gave it the attention it needed and then I tried to move forward. And I did.

I got home and upon seeing the time, raced to dress for the gym. I let all of those toxins out, turned them free into my bloodstream and made my way to the X Gym. This was an experiment of sorts - could I truly exorcise through exercise?

I hoped that Sunshine would be there and she was, although she wasn’t my trainer tonight. Instead, I had a man I only had once before and I wasn’t sure if he would be brutal enough on me and push me the way I knew I needed to be pushed tonight. It was hard to figure out because his name is Cuddle McGentlekins. He’d probably puke on me if he knew that was his name and I am sure there is a crappier side to him but there is something about his face and the way he carries himself that makes me want to purr.

But not tonight. I told him about the shithouse anniversaries I had going on, the crap with my car, and the general frustrations with work (which are getting better but I fear the calm before the shitstorm). I told him I was there to get it all out and to work me to death. He gave me an amused look, I think he didn’t realize my body was backing up my words. But wow, I stepped up and so did he, and it was absolutely perfect (though really he could have pushed even harder and made me drop).

We started with wall lunges. Sunshine added 10 pound weights last time, Cuddles bumped that up to 15. I went through all the ratchets and pulses smoothly, barely grunting or breaking a sweat. This was just the warm up and my body was SO into it. Every time he told me to stop, I pushed a tiny little more, just for me.

With the chin ups out of the picture due to the hernia (which I’ve decided to leave alone for now), we started on a back/row machine that has me leaning forward and pressing against a plank. This is good because my navel doesn’t risk pushing out. Sunshine had me at 30, little girl gave me less last time, I think Cuddles put me at 40. Once again, I pulsed and ratcheted through the whole thing. He applied pressure and told me to fight and with everything I had, I did, and I even pushed him back a bit. I glared at him and released hundreds of pounds of hatred and anger that I didn’t even know I had as I pushed back and worked hard. Then I felt bad for the evil stink eye I gave him and he laughed and told me to bring it on. But that sort of took the wind out of me because he was laughing and even that release felt good at right.

Onto the chest flys. OK I suck at this one. My left arm goes out completely so fast it’s ridiculous. I had no form and he had to help me, which pissed me off.

We went to the abductor and again, I pushed and pressed as hard as I could. I worked on my form, clenching and tightening. I fought him when I was supposed to and unconsciously yelled “Shit that hurts”. I had a total out of body experience, unsure whether I was saying what I thought. When done, I asked him if I called him an asshole and he laughed and told me no, was I thinking that? I explained I didn’t know, but didn’t remember my outburst.

I positively blitzed through the crunches, on my back feet on a pill. We were done so fast. He started to dismiss me and I said

No. More. I need more. Gimmee more.

And bless that cuddlemonster’s heart, he gave me more. We did another set of wall lunges, harder this time. I was so grateful he was willing to spend some more time with me. I felt like I was going to explode as I worked through easily yet again, though feeling a lot of burn.

I left and sprinted up the steps of the hill. Made my way home and went straight to the gym in the building. Did 50 pound leg lifts and some arm stuff. Shithead on the elliptical wouldn’t leave so I did. I came home and did 10 real push ups, no knees. 50 crunches. Tried to stand on my head, failed miserably and fell over.

Then I sat on the floor and laughed and cried and laughed some more. While I lay there, Bosco sat on my head and pounded me with his tail.

God, people, I wrote this all out and still know there’s no way you can understand what is and is no longer in me. I feel cleansed and I know it isn’t all in my head because as I write this, my entire body is breaking out from head to toe. And as obnoxious as that is, I love it because it’s a sign to me that I am expelling all the toxins and I truly honestly feel…

…exorcised. The demons have gone to bother someone else, at least for now.

And me? I’m going to go have some chicken breast and brown rice with vegetables and crawl into bed with the sweetest cat in the world. And I’m goingto sleep like a rock tonight not because I’m exhausted but because I’m rested. Rested in the heart and soul.

Amen.