Zombies make my ankles hurt

Robbie and I have officially completed a practice run for the apocalypse! Spoiler alert: we may not survive. To be fair I imagine the actual apocalypse will not include staying within the caution tape so I suppose there is a bit of hope. :) I will say this: I will actively avoid the foothills as much as possible because the uneven terrain did a number on my ankles and they are just now starting to feel less awful.

Robbie and I had a great weekend and you can see the photo-novela of it on Facebook if you're cool enough to be friends with me (let's be real if you are here reading this you have probably already seen them but I don't want my blog to feel exclusive to the wayward wanderer so I keep it general). It was really nice to have him visit (really nice to have someone hang out with me all weekend and not make lame excuses or forget to call me... personal rant over I promise!).

And now today's top story: my trainer is missing. Ok he's apparently no longer my trainer (I suspect he may have been fired). I'm sad. I liked Taylor and his scary arms. He was nice. I was handed off to a new guy, Tim today and then ultimately adopted by Rico. He is shorter than me and not particularly ripped but I don't really care because I think this is the guy who randomly high-fived me a couple times during one of my gym visits (for no apparent reason...which are the best high-fives). He seems cool so far (5 minute intro). Hopefully he'll push me so that we can stay the course with Operation Skinny Bitch. OSB is going well by the way. I still look pretty much the same, just a tiny bit less fluffy. For now that's promising...right?

Is that you, Universe? It's me, Sam!

I think the Universe is speaking to me today. I went to wash my car and when I finished up and got in to drive away "Call Me Maybe" was on the radio... it was almost over but I cranked what was left and soaked up the awesome. Clearly it was a sign. I went for a little drive to let my car (Stella... I finally committed to a name!) dry off and I'll be darned if I didn't catch it on the next radio station! Hello, Universe, thanks for the "Buck up kiddo!"; I probably needed that. Sometimes you have to be reminded how awesome stuff can be even when it's not grand and fabulous and you're flying solo. Even just rockin' your to-do list.

Additionally I want to challenge anyone who's feeling a little glum to go for a short drive, pick a rocking radio station or playlist, crank that business up, roll down the windows and sing along as loud as you dare. Don't worry if people see you--they're jealous. (If it bugs you, you could always wear those Charlie Chapman mustache glasses...hell that might just jack the awesome all the way up to 11!) If that doesn't do a little somethin'-somethin' for your mood it may be time to consider pharmaceutical intervention or professional counselling.

No go forth and be awesome!

Operation Skinny Bitch Update

Ok so I've worked with Taylor twice now and both times I have cursed his name two days after the fact as I struggled to stand up out of a chair or had to conjure up all my will to lift my coffee off the desk. He said that soreness means results. If this is true the back of my knees and the sides of my neck are going to be dead sexy before too long (those muscles made their presence known for a week after each of their beatings). Taylor is a nice guy. He is good at what he does for the following reasons:

1) He is pretty convincing when he says things like "You got it! Just 5 more!" and "C'mon! Keep going!" to my fluffy self as I sweat and struggle to do the last however many whatever-I'm-doing's (he always counts so he could totally be torturing me). I think that is probably skill number one you learn when getting your personal training certification. Acting is key! I'm sure he's really thinking "Dear TODD this girl is pathetic... but it's almost precious how she thinks she's doing so good... bless."

2) I am SORE afterwards. That's the point right? If so he's getting an A+.

3) He talks back to me. I'm not sure if you're supposed to be the "strong, silent type" when being a personal trainer but Taylor is. The good news is when I talk to him (to distract myself from my wobbly legs as I wall-sit) he does talk back to me. I'm trying to warm him up so I don't have to carry all the conversational weight as well as the weight of my pudgy self through all these sessions, but he get's full credit for playing along. Some people suck at that.

4) He looks the part. It's a little intimidating but I think it's just as well that I am intimidated by this man's scary arms. It does help me feel very obedient when he tells me I have 10 of anything left. I can't let this man and his giant biceps down. He could do this in is sleep! Hell he probably does! To be fair he's not as hulking as I remember him being when I met him... but he's no Napoleon...

This week he is on vacation so I had homework--do either the arms or legs routines we did and then cardio a couple more times. I picked legs because it seems like you should alternate...? Clearly I needed this guidance. I did my best to remember everything and execute as if those scary biceps were watching me. I think I did a good job. But the true test is if on Wednesday I am muttering swears under my breath at my legs for being a couple of wussies. We'll see...