I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Thursday morning. Well, after a disappointing loss last night (we wuz robbed!!!), I've decided that it's time to start anew. Yes, that means the Angels, but I'm also referring to my weight loss/fitness efforts. To that end, following Governor Huckabee's advice, I'm telling all of you about what I'm doing and am committing to being letter perfect to my plan (such as it is) for 12 straight days. (It's not that I'll stop the plan after 12 days, but I'll be able to allow myself some latitude in what I eat or how many days I work out.
For the next 12 days, I pledge to do the following each day:
1. Keep my calories under 2,000 2. Eat my five fruits and veggies 3. Drink at least 64 ounces of water 4. Walk for at least 15 minutes 5. Come here and report how I've done
In order to satify #5, here's my report so far:
1. Had a healthy prepared meal for breakfast, another one for lunch, a decaf skinny latte with sugar-free caramel as a snack, a footlong grilled chicken sandwich on wheat bread with Baked Doritos from Subway [note that, had the day ended here, I'd have been perfect for the day], and a bagged salad with Ranch dressing and croutons. Bummer 2. Had three strawberries (1 fruit) with breakfast, a cup of melon with lunch (1 fruit), several cups of lettuce with lunch (2 veggies), some onion and cucumber (1 veggie) with lunch, lettuce, cucumbers, bell peppers, olives, pickles, and pepperoncinis(sp?) with my sandwich for dinner, and lettuce in my bagged salad. Success! 3. Seventy-four total ounces for the day. Success! 4. No walking. None. Bummer-oo
And, as for my Angels, come on home, boys, we've got your backs!!!
Wednesday afternoon. No, I'm not literally there with my boys, but you know I'm there in spirit. You see, today is my birthday. I can see you all out there, smiling and perhaps wishing me a Happy Birthday. I clearly do not have any California/Anaheim/Los Angeles (boo, hiss) Angels fans in my readership for, if you were a die hard like me, you'd know what October 12th means to my beloved team.
It was October 12th, 1986, in Anaheim Stadium, top of the 9th with the boys comfortably ahead of the Boston Red Sox by a score of 5-2, when, with two out and just one pitch separating them from the Angels' first World Series, Donnie Moore pitched to Dave Henderson who knocked it right over the wall, scoring himself and Rich Gedman, and tying up the game. In the top of the 11th, Henderson hit a sacrifice fly to center to send Don Baylor home, and that was it for the Angels' season. Oh, technically they had to go back to Boston and lose two more games in one of the most spectacular folds in MLB history but, for all intents and purposes, their season ended with that one pitch from Donnie Moore. [Moore's shocking suicide less than a year after the end of his major league career was partially a result of his brooding on this failure; he said he was doomed to be remembered for just one pitch and one failure. Sadly, he was probably right.]
In any case, it's my 38th birthday and there's just one thing I want. (No, I'm not going to type it here...you know it's bad luck to tell anyone what your wish is!)
