Fall fashion is on its way...

And it's coming faster than Voldemort can fly.

Exhibit A.

This delightful palette of clothing, composed by the lovely author of Strawberry Heels Forever, is absolutely and totally full of WANT. I have heels of my own that I'd prefer over the ones in the composition, but still. A-maz-ing. Motivation has been restored completely and totally. Watch me not snack while I read.

Rainbow Ass Tassels of Pain

Raise your hand if you've ever tried Zumba. Well, at the summer-long insistence of a close friend, I finally went to my first Zumba class Wednesday night.

Oh.
My.
God.

I've been to four classes total now, including tonight's epic ball-buster. Zumba kicks my ass like nothing has ever kicked my ass before. The instructor, a fabulous man he is, wears rainbow tassels looped around the buttons on the back of his shorts. Rainbow ass tassels. And he shakes them like I could only ever dream. I try, but it just ends in pain. Good pain, not sports injury pain, but pain nonetheless. Furthermore, at the end of every class, I am absolutely soaked. If you ever want to have a wet t-shirt contest but don't have any water on hand, just have the contestants Zumba for an hour - problem solved. I have to say, if I can keep paying for this shit, I'm gonna be slimming like none other. As of this moment (this moment at the end of the day after I've eaten my dinner), I am down four pounds from where I started a week ago. That is abso-fucking-lutely insane and I am very pleased (duh).

In other news, the vending machine at work now has Skinny Cow candy. Boo-yah, bitches.

So how is everyone else doing? Anyone? Crickets?

I'd rather be a hamster than a lard-ass

Today, I set my alarm for 7:00 am. Yes, am. It shocked me too, don't worry. Even more surprisingly, I was out the door at 7:15, trainers on my feet, sweatshirt on my torso to a) keep me warm in the 55 degree morning air and b) remind me that since said sweatshirt used to be a bit bigger not 6 months ago, I really need to kick my own ass. So I ran, iPod in hand (sans headphones - it works better that way for running, I think), around the 1/4 mile (maybe 1/2?) circle that is my condo community. Me, and like 10 other people. 10 other (skinny) people. 10 people wearing much fancier workout clothes who weren't gasping for breath after each 60 second running interval because they were just running, not running then walking then running again.

I'm pretty sure this is normal. Around the country, physically fit people get up at the ass-crack of dawn to run around their neighborhoods like hamsters in a Habitrail. I think we should all aspire to be one of these hamsters. After all, the comparison between us (or maybe just me) and the hamsters isn't kind if what you're comparing is BMI. Better to be a hamster than a lard-ass, right?

In other news, before I stepped out this morning, my darling white scale read 202. How delightful! Of course, now it's back up to something a little more realistic after just one day, but it was nice to see that number even if it only lasted half an hour.

And now, before I go to rouse man-creature for his ride to work (courtesy of moi), I will add two things, the first being today's coveted item:

This is ModCloth's "Who Wants to Be a Frillionaire" dress. It's absolutely gorgeous and totally unwearable in my current shape. However, I think maybe I could look good in it just in time for Christmas. Maybe.

Secondly, I would like to share the most recent addition to my workout playlist. Instead of directing the rage of this song toward man-creature, who is undeserving of such vitriol, I dedicate it to my ugly lady lumps.

First Hurdle: Date Night

Man-creature and I have a favorite place to go on movie dinner dates. It's an old-timey theatre that was first opened by Paul Newman and is still locally owned and operated. They serve all sorts of tasty (greasy, salty, sugary, carby, fatty) stuff, both in-house and delivered from the mom 'n pop pizza place down the street. It's cheap and excellent and my favori-- I mean the worst possible place to be today.

Today, the first day of my own personal hell the rest of my life, man creature says (luckily before I decided what to have for lunch) "hey let's go to Studio 35 for dinner." Holy fucking shit. So I can choose between wings, pizza, and a sub for my last meal of the day? Wow, you mean I can pick any of these 600+ calorie options? How wonderful! But, determined to live my life and not let bitchy fat lumps get in MY way, off to dinner and a movie I went. I walked in with an 874 calorie deficit on my day and left with 30 to spare.

My imaginary friends, THAT is called eating like a weight-shifting lady despite a man-creature's attempts to trick you into ordering (cheesy) pretzel bites, beer, and a large popcorn with your toned-down Italian sub and Diet Coke.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to turn my 30 calories into a piece (just one, mind you) of well-deserved Skinny Cow Chocolate and tuck myself in, because men don't know how to go to bed on time... I suspect mine will be up playing his game until at least 3 am.

P.S. - Day two of Couch to 5k starts in 7.5 hours. Bring it.

Today, we begin.

I have decided to take part in Cat Rainwater's weight loss challenge. Starting today, for the next nine weeks, this young honey badger is going to kick ass and take names on every (well, as many as possible...) unsightly lump, bulge, and excess inch that has accumulated over the past 4 years of college.

The stats:

• Today's weight: 206 lbs. Holy fucking shit, is there an invisible child standing on the scale with me??
• Eventual goal weight: 115 lbs. That's a long fucking way to go. I probably should have stopped eating Chipotle three years ago, but that rice... oh god.
• Goal for this challenge: Let's say... 185 lbs. That's reasonable enough, if a little optimistic on a per-week basis.

So, imaginary readers (because let's face it, why would you read this when you can read Cat's blog about the same thing), how will we (yes, we, you thought I was doing this by myself while you just got to sit on your ass and watch?) make it through the next 9 weeks NOT ONLY without GAINING a pound, but LOSING 21 of them??

Let's get this straight. Moratorium on Chipotle unless it's a rice-free burrito bol. Two drink maximum on bar nights, excepting my upcoming birthday, where I think I can splurge up to... I dunno, two bottles of liquor? Sounds about right. And of course, my man-creature is a manager at my absolute favorite pizza establishment. There is always at least one pizza in our fridge because he brings them home ALL THE TIME, occasionally downing 1.5 large pizzas as a casual afternoon snack. Typical gross man behavior. This will take willpower of steel and maybe some taser shocks thrown in, but let's try to not have pizza more than once a week.

I re-started the Couch to 5k last night. I started it for the first time back in May, but promptly sprained my ankle after one week. Hopefully this attempt will turn out to be more successful. It's a 9 week program, so that fits perfectly with our challenge. If you're interested, I use the C25K app, which is a great investment (in my opinion); it tracks your progress, lets you journal after each run, and keeps a running tab on your weight also.

I'll be tracking food, exercise, and weight on Lose It! using my fab iPod touch and their free app.

Finally, my crowning motivation: I have been promised an all-new wardrobe consisting of whatever clothes I want from my mother, provided I can get back to my svelte size 5 self someday. So, maybe every post, maybe only once in a while, I'll feature a dream piece of clothing to keep the motivation coming. So I'll end on that note, leaving you with the first sample of my soon-to-be wardrobe.

This outfit is from Anthropologie - a store from which I own nothing but want everything. I really love cozy sweaters but in my current shape they look absolutely awful. A long sweater like this will be a definite addition to my new wardrobe!