i defeated the burrito brick & sweated my balls off


post work out!

busted my ass today! ignore my slightly scary hitchhiker’s thumb.

good afternoon, everyone. i hope you guys had an exquisite thursday! today is friday and i am happy because: 1. i have no school or work on fridays and am free to spend my time as i wish. 2. i worked out for 2 hours and 45 minutes today and let me tell you, i loved every minute of it. 3. it’s the weekend!

this morning i got up with my dear friend Tricia and we went to zumba at a local gym. 8am came excruciatingly early, especially since my dog decided to take this morning off and not bark to wake me up. my bed was so comfortable and warm, but i got a call from Tricia asking me if i was awake and i got up, made myself a piece of toast with peanut butter, and walked my happy, albeit tired, ass out the door, heading to the richmond athletic club. the zumba class today was taught by someone i know, so i was super excited to get my sweat on and shake my ass. in case you’ve never done zumba, there’s a lot of ass and titty shaking. and i mean A LOT of ass and titty shaking…and i love shaking my girls and my booty. it’s actually kind of liberating. i only dance like that when i’m drunk or at a club, and to shake all my business and know i’m working toward a fitter me just makes the experience more exciting. plus, with every time i do it, i get that much better at shaking these here hips. halfway through the class, i decided i wasn’t done after zumba– it was time to conquer my fear: week 3 day 1 of C25k.

i went to EKU’s gym and spent some time on the elliptical, contemplating my future fate on the treadmill. i stared at all the treadmills, observing and inspecting each one of them as i plowed through 25 minutes on the elliptical with a resistance level of 8-10. i always like to do the first one or two days of the week on the treadmill and finish out the week on the track to learn how to set my own pace. i trucked through week 1 and week 2. week one was 60 seconds of running followed by 90 minutes of walking. week two was 90 seconds of running and two minutes of walking. week three is 90 seconds of running, 90 seconds of walking and THEN THREE WHOLE MINUTES OF RUNNING. CONSECUTIVELY. my fat girl heart was indeed scared i would not be able to fully get through two repetitions of three minutes, but i did it. the first three minutes was intense, but i got through it relatively easy. i could have kept going at the end of the section, but i decided to let myself have that three minutes of rest to naturally build up my endurance. the second round of three minutes, though, was a little more difficult. but, this time, i felt my endorphins start to release and i felt that feeling all runners talk about– running ceased to suck today. and i ended up completing two miles in 29 minutes, which means i shaved 30 seconds of each mile as i was only doing a mile in 15 minutes. seeing progress is definitely the biggest motivator in this situation. i can feel my body changing and i can feel my lungs get stronger with each day i accomplish. i feel very strong today. i did some light strength training and had a good stretch and came home.

the next goal on my list is to quit smoking. i know that’s a goal a lot of people have, but i can’t really expect myself to achieve all of the cardio-related goals i’ve set for myself if i’m taking two steps back by smoking cigs. trust me, i love smoking cigs, but i know it’s about that time. i need to start saving money. i need to start preserving my lung tissue. i need to keep contributing to my overall well-being. right now, i’m working on reducing it to when i drink (which i’ve actually limited as well). i think a maximum of two cigarettes a day is a a pretty good way to start and then i can slowly start removing those as well. i’m not necessarily a chain-smoker anymore, but i have been known to put a pack away without thinking about it. with my current weight, i need to let go of all the aspects of my life that are inhibiting me and smoking is one of them. it will be weird to consider myself a non-smoker… maybe i’ll use the term former smoker. that doesn’t sound so depressing.

today for lunch is vegan grilled cheese and vegetable soup.  happy friday, y’all, and stay healthy.



a rapid decline from cycling and yoga to inhaling a qdoba burrito: the challenges of sadness

this is my disgruntled face. you’ll find out why i’m disgruntled.

up until this point, i had a pretty successful week. i managed to make it to the gym three days in a row, run two of those days, and eat within my calorie range. at this moment, i am currently trying to transition from a pescetarian ( a fish-eating vegetarian) to a predominate vegan since i’m somewhat lactose intolerant. but sometimes… a giant fucking dairy hole opens up in my stomach and demands to be filled. these times most often occur in times of stress or upsetness. tonight was one of those nights, my friends.

i had actually registered for two fitness classes at my campus’ gym tonight: cycling and toasty yoga. cycling is always an ass kicker and i figured it would help me release the toxins of the day. it was to be followed by toasty yoga to help relieve the lactic acid build up in my muscles and to help me calm down. this was the plan until a fucking major galactic supernova event occurred and sent me into the downward spiral of upset. it wasn’t really that dramatic, but with the changes in my birth control this month, the fact i didn’t exercise today, and the stress of the week hitting me all at once i lost my shit and was inconsolable for a couple of hours, resorting to laying in my bed crying instead of sucking it up and going to the gym. i rejected the food my sweet, sweet boyfriend made and instead….



i ate a fucking burrito from qdoba complete with rice, black beans, faijita vegetables, cheese, sour cream, queso, and TWO KINDS of salsa. i ate every bit of it. EVERY. SINGLE. SOLITARY. BITE. and for awhile, i felt okay. now, i feel like shit for not exercising and for eating a synthetic food brick. and it really is a fucking brick, y’all. it’s sitting right in the bottom of my stomach, just waiting to wreak havoc on my intestines. i’m dumb, but, i am human. it was a stupid, lazy mistake to make, but at least there were no french fries or crispy fish sandwiches involved. i just have to get up, zumba tomorrow morning, and then hit another gym and run. i won’t consider it punishment as much as i will consider it making up for being lazy tonight. i’m too good at being lazy. on top of that, i really threw my attempt at eating little to no dairy out the window with the queso…and sour cream… and shredded cheese. i mean, fuckin’ really. who needs that much dairy in their burrito? i could have just calmed my shit down and ate at home. i really need to learn to check my emotions. they will be my downfall in this weight loss journey.

in case you haven’t figured it out yet, i love to eat. i turn to eating for so many different emotions and it’s honestly something about myself i desperately wish i could change and while i’m working on it, i know i’ll have to battle it for the rest of my life. tonight was a loss and food won, but tomorrow is another day. all i can do is put my heart into working out tomorrow and just hope for the best on Sunday for my weigh in.  one burrito can’t fuck me over too badly, right?

stay healthy, y’all.

my love of food is unnecessary.

i’m Kara and i’m a 23 year old heavy hipster.

i’m 6’2, have my lip pierced, have 3 tattoos, and walk with a disgustingly superior swagger. i am an english graduate student. my ears are gauged to a size 2 currently. i’m a vegetarian potentially transitioning into veganism. my hair is a very bright, yet fake, red. i am also chubby. i have been chubby my entire life.

every chubby person (or at least any chubby person i’ve ever known) has a sad, sad sob story about why they are they way they are- we all have excuses for why we are chubby, fat, big boned, hefty, husky, curvy, rounded, or victims of the fast food chains across the nation. we all have them. sometimes, it’s genetic– “i come from a family of fat people! i’m meant to be this way!” we have excuses for not working out, not eating correctly, and not treating our bodies the best we can treat them e.g. “i’m so busy! i don’t have time to cook or eat healthy” or “eating healthy is so expensive!” i am a person who has not only used these excuses for my body measurements and my weight, but i somehow drilled these ideas into my head and allowed myself to function on these lies. i am fat because i choose to eat a frozen pizza with ranch dressing rather than making a wholesome meal from real foods. i am fat because instead of getting up to go to the gym in the morning, i choose to sleep for an extra hour. i am not fat because Rally’s forces me to eat a fish sandwich with cheese and a large fry. no, i am fat because i choose to eat at the Rally’s and because i enjoy it. i enjoy eating and i enjoy situations where there will be food. i am fat because i like to eat and i like to eat shitty food, just like a majority of the people in the United States.

let me explain myself a bit. you see, i am that person who watches documentaries about the food i consume. i am the kind of person who is educated in regards to the caloric values of foods; i am aware of how many calories i should consume a day to maintain my current weight. i am very aware of my BMI and my BMR; i am also aware that cholesterol and my triglycerides are all normal. i am aware of my health and what i am doing to my body by staying healthy. recently, the doctor told me i probably have IBS, which is irritable bowel syndrome. obviously, many americans are afflicted with this disorder because of our outrageous diets and our lack of exercise. i feel like shit sometimes because of my own actions. my life is halted by terrible stomach cramps because, although i am aware of what i am doing to my body, i choose to do it anyway. i have chosen to eat fast food, shitty food, restaurant food my entire life and last night, i had the dawning realization that it’s all my fault. these decisions are mine and honestly, sometimes i feel like i keep myself fat because it GIVES ME the excuse to eat this way.

i know what you’re thinking– if those restaurants and chains did not create such wonderful food, i wouldn’t eat it and i wouldn’t be overweight or sick! it is the restaurant’s fault, especially fast food restaurants!  the problem comes, though, in the fact that we as a nation are blaming companies which do not control our actions nor what we eat. Ronald McDonald does not take hostages off the street by putting a gun against their temple and demanding the hostages eat three big macs with a large fry. no, we as a nation choose to spend our money at these restaurants and we choose to indulge in less than healthy foods BECAUSE WE LIKE IT. yes, America, we like fast food. the other problem is that many fast food websites, even more sit-down type restaurants like Applebee’s and O’Charley’s, have gotten with the program and have begun posting their nutrition facts on their websites. food and nutrition education about the foods we consume at fast food restaurants is possible, America. we just choose to turn a blind eye; it’s easier to blame the company than blame ourselves for our shitty and poor food decisions. we do not have to eat these things; we do not have to spend our money at these restaurants. we choose, though, to do so. stop blaming restaurants. if a restaurant doesn’t carry a healthier food option, stop attending. start cooking your own meals. a majority of the time, the money you spend at a restaurant could feed you a meal three times over. it costs around $1.72 per person to make some spaghetti with tomato sauce. cut back on fried foods and consume foods which naturally grow in the ground– yes i’m discussing VEGETABLES AND FRUITS. i know a plethora of americans have forgotten what these things are, but they exist and they are DELICIOUS.

this is my story. i fucking love fast food but i hate being a heavy hipster. i love working out but i have no motivation and i’m pretty bad at pushing myself. i have failed before and there’s always a chance for failure again. this time, though, i hope will be the real deal.