Winter Vs. Summer Olympics

It's easy to feel lazy while perched on the couch, watching the Winter Olympics. It's about 25 degrees here in New England, so even going outside to dump the trash seems like an immense undertaking.

Meanwhile, these Olympic athletes have to one-up me by going outside in the snow and actually doing stuff, like winning athletic medals for their countries. Sheesh, what show-offs!

Seriously, though, even if it weren't frigid out, I'd be hard-pressed to separate myself from the Olympics. I'm ... addicted, you see. The further I get from my youth, the more impressive each installment of the Olympics becomes.
But what if winter and summer had to compete against each other for overall supremacy? Well, now they do. I scored each category with medals.

STAR POWER
The winter games have a few names that the Average Joe has probably heard: Shaun White (1 gold) and Apolo Ohno (2 gold, 1 silver, 2 bronze).
But nothing can compare to the celebrity of the summer games, which includes super-swimmer Michael Phelps (6 gold, 2 bronze); tennis queens Venus (3 gold) and Serena (2 gold) Williams and the country's best NBA players, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James and Dwyane Wade (3 gold).
Summer reigns supreme here.
Winter medal count: 3 gold, 1 silver, 2 bronze; 6 total
Summer medal count: 14 gold, 2 bronze; 16 total

SPORTS
Don't get me wrong: The summer games require a great deal of athletic prowess.
But most of the sports (running, table tennis, swimming, basketball, volleyball, etc.) are things any regular person can do at their local gym. True, summer Olympians can do things faster and better than a normal folks (1 gold, 1 silver, 1 bronze). But the sports themselves can be performed by laymen without undergoing rigorous training.
Not true with most of the winter Olympic sports. Based on blistering speeds (luge, skeleton), towering heights (snowboarding half pipe) or a combination of the two (freestyle skiing), many of the winter sports can result in life-threatening injuries, or death, if even the tiniest error takes place. (Rest in peace, Nodar Kumaritashvili.)
Winter athletes not only have skills, they have colossal cajones, willing to risk their lives for sport (15 gold medals). Disagree? Then go slide 90 miles per hour on a skeleton next week and report back to me.
Winter: 18 gold, 1 silver, 2 bronze; 21 total
Summer: 15 gold, 1 silver, 3 bronze; 19 total

CONVENIENCE
Let's be honest: When it's gray, depressing and freezing outside, the Olympics are a fantastic distraction. There are certainly ways to chip away at two weeks of winter (1 gold, 1 silver).
When the summer games are on, however, there's so much else to do. Instead of watching people play volleyball, tennis, basketball or badminton, for instance, you can go play them yourself.
Admit it: The only times you watch the summer games are on your computer at work, and before bed at night (1 bronze). Anything else that's worth seeing will be on sports highlights.
Winter: 19 gold, 2 silver, 2 bronze; 23 total
Summer: 12 gold, 4 silver, 4 bronze; 20 total

INTENSITY
Because so many winter events are solo missions, the summer games boast a stronger intensity. From the incessant, serious grunting of the tennis players (2 gold), to the blink-and-you'll-miss-em short sprints (3 silver) to action-packed basketball games (1 gold, 1 silver), head-to-head competitions are usually more dramatic and offer instant gratification!
Winter has a few such sports, including speed skating (1 gold), snowboarding cross (1 silver) and cross-country skiing (1 bronze). But in every other event, the athletes sit and watch their competitors instead of going against them simultaneously.
Winter: 20 gold, 3 silver, 3 bronze; 26 total
Summer: 15 gold, 8 silver, 4 bronze; 27 total

EXHILARATION
What the winter games might lack in head-to-head contests, they more than make up for in the wow-factor.
Tell us you haven't drawn in a sharp, nervous breath watching a snowboarder soar above the crowd during the halfpipe (2 gold); an athlete careen through an icy track face first during the skeleton (1 gold, 1 silver, 1 bronze); or a skier taking a huge tumble, bouncing off moguls (3 bronze).
Watching the winter games is exhilarating because the sports are often daring, and there's a very real chance the athlete won't be able to complete their task without a brutal spill.
Meanwhile, during summer, there's usually no doubt whether the athletes will finish rowing or swimming... it's just a matter of how fast they can do it (1 silver).
Aaaaand, it's winter for the win!
Winter: 23 gold, 4 silver, 7 bronze; 34 total
Summer: 15 gold, 9 silver, 4 bronze; 28 total


Bottom line: We love us some summer games, too. But the winter games are riskier, more unpredictable and rich with events/tricks that the average person can't even fathom doing. Winter doesn't start with W-I-N for nothin'.

Ben Gay is my friend

Summary haiku:

No intense work outs
for weeks... until today. Now,
crying self to sleep.

I'm going crazy -- want a lift?

Summary haiku:
Time flies when life is
busy. Wine helps, but Vegas
trip is what I need.

Happy Valentine's Day!

After a delicious, candlelit Italian meal (sorry, diet!) at our new dining room table, Kyle and I are having the most romantic evening. He is watching a basketball game with Miles (the cat) curled in the nook of his leg. I'm messing around on the computer, Lucy's head resting on my thigh and Archie's head nuzzled against my neck (he's on the back of the couch cushion).

But after our tummies retract a little bit, me and the hubbster will actually probably snuggle each other and watch a movie or something. Because honestly, red wine makes me want to cuddle someone without fur. (Side note: Covey Run wine from Washington state... try it.)

Anyway. It's been a really hellish three weeks (with the exception of last weekend, which included a visit from Danielle and Javacia's birthday). You don't care about the details. Hell, I'd just as soon forget them myself. But suffice it to say that I've felt like a monkey with its hair on fire for weeks.

But here's the good news: Out of nowhere, I get this email from one of my favorite girlfriends of all time, Beth. I can't say enough about how much I love this woman. Anyway, the email said she was going to Las Vegas for a work trip, the hotel room is already paid for, and did I want to meet her there and play for a few days?


Hellz to the yeah.

This is exactly what I needed, and it could not have come with better timing. The trip isn't for another month, but that's perfect because it gives me some time to reclaim my sanity and, perhaps, lose some more poundage before I go someplace warm, where I will not be wearing 50 layers of clothing.

(Fattie update: I've lost 11 pounds now. Probably could have lost more if it were not for aforementioned fun weekend filled with girlfriends, non-Weight Watchers dinners and lots of alcohol. What can I say? Stress made me relapse for a few days. Still, all of my pants are too big, which is fun, but also annoying.)

Only been to Las Vegas once, for my bachelorette party in 2005, which is also the last time I've seen Beth. See how fun (and sober) she is?



So I'm looking forward to exploring a little more and doing some shopping. According to our tax guy, our income tax refunds should drop into the account tomorrow. Maybe things are finally turning around. I'm ready for the crazy train to pull into the station, man.

Oh, and my Chia Pet? It's going apeshit!

Night, lovebirds...

Fattie update Vol. 2

Weighed myself just now: I'm down a total of 8 pounds, possibly more because I'm wearing a whole lotta clothes today. (It's cold as hell.) Hooray!

I've been crazy busy at work and obsessed with doing house stuff when I'm at home, most of which takes a lot longer than I expect it to. What can I say? I'm a novice.

Anyhoo, pics (and things that are more interesting than updates on my personal life) coming soon.

Fattie update

Summary haiku:
One week in, counting
points and pining for pretzels.
But I lost four pounds.

Driving Miss Maisy

Summary haiku:
No more U-turns, or
punching steering wheel. Mandy
tells me where to go.



Well. I just made this list of all the stuff that needs to get done in the next day and a half. And I started to freak-the-fuck-out when it reached the bottom fourth of an 8x11 page of notebook paper.

So what's the logical thing to do? Sit down with the laptop and write a blog -- something that is not, incidentally, on that list. Whatever. I'm tired. I haven't been feeling well lately. And I was running around town for work, non-stop, all day.

A girl can only do so much before she hits the wall and needs a swig of vodka. And yes, it does fit into the Weight Watchers plan -- only 2 points! In fact, my good friend Stephanie -- who is also an incredibly talented writer; read her most excellent home-and-life-improvement blog here -- refers to vodka as "diet alcohol." Drink it straight up, and the overall calorie damage is pretty low. I haven't consulted my liver on any other potential damages, however.

Anyhoo, this is what brings me to my computer tonight: I need to extol the virtues of my Christmas present, a GPS navigation system for my car. Besides my dog, Lucy, this is the best, most useful gift I have ever received.

I have absolutely no sense of direction. I'm not sure how I existed before Mapquest. If someone watched me try to find places from above, it would look like a Family Circus installment:



Anyway, this device is like magic. My appreciation for it grows with each day of out-of-the-office assignments in random areas of town. In addition to a visual map and instructions, you can choose from several different voices who will speak the instructions to you as they happen.

I chose Mandy, a pleasant-sounding American girl. Although, for a fee, you also have the option of download the voice of John Cleese from the website. Personally, I'd prefer Method Man -- "Yo, bus' a left at this stoplight, nah'mean?" -- but beggars can't be choosers.



Mandy warns me to get in the proper lane two miles in advance of the turn. She can find me the nearest gas station, library or school, or take me to any address in the U.S. and Guam. But, unlike other navigators I've experienced, she doesn't talk too much or get all pissed off and yell at you when you make a wrong turn.



Our Realtor's system talks for nearly the entire ride and if you screw up, you get scolded: "TURN AROUND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! TURN AROUND IMMEDIATELY!" Mandy simply recalculates the route from your mistake and pretends it never happened. Just like a girlfriend should.

It has changed my life. And it is helping the environment, because I'm using a helluva lot less gas, and therefore, making less pollution.

I never imagined I'd be quoting Barry Manilow on anything, but I have to say: "Oh Mandy, You came and you gave without taking.... and I need you today, oh Mandy."

OK, time for "Project Runway."

Pointed in the right direction...

Summary haiku:
I'm kinda hungry.
But when my jeans fit better
it will be worth it.


I'm a total cliche right now. It's early January and I'm hopping back on the health train after a dwindling commitment. It's not like this is a bad thing, but I just wish it were still a constant part of my life.

For a while, I transformed into a total gym person. I went five times a week for about 90 minutes a day, did cardio and weight training and my pants started getting bigger. Then we got the dogs, and I started walking them more (three miles a day every day, on average) and going to the gym less. What can I say? I like being outside and spending time with my furry pals.



Then fall happened, and it started getting dark earlier. And then it got colder. So, while Lucy and Archie still ripped around the yard together, our walks became shorter and more infrequent. You can probably connect the dots from here.

After a decidedly awful first week of January, I decided I needed some positive things to focus on to help counter the personal problems going on my life. The house, of course, is one of those happy things. (We close on Friday!) And my hubby is a constant source of happiness and support. Love him!

But I've also joined the Weight Watchers cult and now my entire life revolves around Points.



Not because I'm constantly eating. But because it makes you think about your entire day at once. If you don't prepare carefully, you could be fucked and Pointless by dinner time. It's a total reality check.

Things that seem pretty innocuous -- a handful of Goldfish crackers, an occasional Halloween sized candy bar from my boss' abundant dish or two packets of instant oatmeal instead of one -- add up quickly.



So basically, you have two choices: You either commit to this kind of thing whole-heartedly, or you don't. There's no in between.

Shit. This means no more drinking an entire bottle of red wine after a rough day. No more delicious raspberry mochas from Starbucks. Ah well. It'll be worth it in the long run.



Luckily, moving is gonna help on the exercise front. I spent an hour today carrying boxes up and down stairs into our POD, and in the coming weeks will spend countless hours painting the ceilings, walls, doors and baseboards in our new house (burns 241 calories an hour, based on my particulars).

Anyway, not that anyone really needs all this detail. But I figure making this relatively public will help keep me honest and motivated.

Just try to forgive me for any future angry rants. A girl without her wine and Starbucks isn't always pretty.

Sorry, muscles. Better luck next time.

SUMMARY HAIKU:

Dog walks don't do shit
for muscle tone. Back to gym.
Arms and abs on fire.


Here's how Kyle described his pain after using my favorite (and simultaneously least favorite) abdominal machine at the Y for the first time: "I feel like someone just ripped my guts out."

Precisely. This is why I have such a love/hate relationship with the thing.

After about four months of ignoring the gym, I finally made my way back there this week. Once Lucy and Archie arrived on the scene, I was (and am) walking them every day. Briskly. Often twice. But I stopped working out at the Y because it was hard to work it in -- and hey, I was still exercising, right? Eh, not really.

I haven't gained any weight in that time, but my muscle tone and definition started to wither. So I made my first foray back there on Monday and did 45 minutes of cardio. Then I weight trained my arms, legs, abs and back -- all in one day.

What a dumbass.

Of course, I soon felt like I got hit by a truck. Yesterday, I could barely even straighten my legs out because my hamstrings felt as though someone had shortened them by about 8 inches each. Every time I stretched backwards, my abs screamed out like an 8-pound dog when someone rings the doorbell. And let's not even talk about my arms, which I wanted to cut off with a butcher knife but couldn't muster the strength to grip a blade.

Today was better, and I'm going back tomorrow. And at least four days a week from here on out. I hate, hate, hate it. But I've got to do it.

Some people try to motivate with the old cliche, "No pain, no gain." But I think that shit only works on meatheads who enjoy committing to fitness. I'm just doing this to look a little better in my jeans and continue eating at the Shalimar Indian buffet from time to time.