Jillian Michaels is a crazy bitch

But when you look like this...

...you can pretty much act however the hell you want.

I never got into The Biggest Loser because reality TV grinds my gears. Besides, if I wanted to see obese people flop around aimlessly for an hour or so I'd just head on down to the local WalMart.

After a thorough two minutes of research, the internets tell me that Jillian was an original trainer on the show, and has since developed her own brand of weight loss and fitness products. Tonight I downloaded purchased her 30 Day Shred, and before you point out how incredibly cheap I am, note that I already know that.

This program consists of three 20-ish minute long workouts, each at a different level. The idea is to do Level 1 for 10 days, Level 2 for 10 days and Level 3 for 10 days.

And then, blam-o! Results?

I fully expect that after 30 days I will look like this:

Right.

Alas - first impressions: though short in length (and I consider this a plus, as longer workouts get in the way of my lying-around time), this felt like a complete workout. It presented strength training, core, aerobics and cardio in an easy-to-follow, and surprisingly non-irritating manner. It was challenging - and while I'm not an absolute beginner - I'm by no means athlete of the year, so I was panting pretty hard by the end.

In the last month or so of my most sincere-to-date attempt of not living my life akin to a festering pile of excrement, I've noticed some subtle results. I've lost about seven pounds and don't feel embarrassed wearing short sleeved t-shirts anymore. I have a long way to go to reach my "goal weight" (which really just means I'd like to look half decent in a bridesmaid dress on June 15), but with convenient tools like free cheap workout videos I can do in my basement while my cat stares at me - I've got a decent shot.

(Note, the above photo isn't actually me. I wish my cat looked that pretty)

I'm not sure in what universe a human being with a full time job and a semi-active social life can realistically commit to 30 days of working out in a row, but I'm going to give it a try. I suppose someone who is driven to succeed will have no problem, but I don't really wear that badge. I have every expectation that I will fail miserably, as is my style. But coupled with continuing my two-to-three day gym routine each week, I may actually come out of this not looking like Rush Limbaugh after destroying a Denny's buffet.

Another get-fit-quick scheme is upon me!

Wish me luck.

The Ides

Today an internet friend alluded to the significance today's date.

We all know the tale. On this day in 44 BC, Julius Caesar was stabbed to death by a group of conspirators - one of whom was his closest friend.



Then the question that hit home: Have you ever been betrayed by someone you trusted?

Preamble: this blog isn't my personal diary. It's merely an embarrassing attempt to use my own cynical brand of narcissistic self-deprecating humour to enlighten the masses about the fact that being a woman sucks sometimes.

But full disclosure: sadly, the whole impetus behind this blog exercise was a former friend of mine. A best friend, as he were. We grew very close in a very short period of time, and it ended just as abruptly, and quite horrifically. His exhaustive laundry list of lies and deceit eventually caught up with him, and just like that, it was over.

The worst of his literal mountain of lies (turns out he has a severe mental illness and lied chronically in order to manipulate) was a fake diagnosis of advanced-level cancer. You can imagine how devastating this news was. For months, we were all played like fiddles. Cancer was his ray gun. It deflected everything. He was untouchable.

I've been struggling with his betrayal for months. I keep it together 90% of the time, but in reality, it's permeated my entire life. Short of erasing every trace of his existence from my memory, I'm not sure how to get over it. This is my first real betrayal. I suppose in a way I'm lucky just as I suppose it probably won't be my last one, either. It still stings.

As evidenced by this silly blog, when I don't know what else to do, I write. Shortly after I was informed of his "diagnosis", I wrote a blog and dedicated to him, posting it here. Once the truth came out, it was removed.

Here it is, again.

Happy Ides, everybody. I wish you all a betrayal-free day.

And if you're reading this - I am on my way to being in the best shape I've ever been.

How about you?

Today I spent $189 on running shoes...

...and all I got was this lousy sense of smug satisfaction.

$189 isn't even that ridiculous. Sure, it's pricey. Maybe a little over budget. One might even say a tad irresponsible.

But I've been focused and healthy for the last few weeks, and I deserve it.

I grew up poor. If I needed a pair of shoes, they came from someone else or from The Salvation Army. I always had food and I always had a roof over my head. But after we were done paying for those, there was room for little else.

Okay, maybe there was room for a super-sweet lion bathing suit:

Incredible bathing gear aside -- despite my incessant complaining -- I truly appreciate what I now have.

I'll always be that shy, awkward little girl from the rougher end of town, in a lion-clad bathing suit cooling off in a plastic wading pool.

Now, I just have nicer shoes.

Look ma, no velcro.