Conversations With the King

Dear Burger King:

Let me just straight out say that I do not like you. There. I said it. I remember trying one of your burgers as a child and thinking, "WTF?!? What are these little seeds on my bun and why is this thing cooked differently?!?" My opinions of you have ebbed and flowed with my taste buds, but it's been towards the negative side since infancy.

Why you are the only fast food joint with a free parking lot is beyond me. I'd love to have given my (ok, SOB's) money to the Panera or even Einstein Bagels, but spending an equal amount of money in quarters to park as it would to buy a sandwich is even more idiotic then your hamburger buns with seeds on them.

So, we drove around till we found how to get in to your deceptive parking lot. In my head, I repeated over and over again: "just getting the mini-cinnamon buns. just getting the mini-cinnamon buns. just getting the mini-cinnamon buns..."

Damn you and your stupidly colored ads. I knew better than to believe your pictures. No way could a $3 sausage-egg-cheese-devil'spoo biscuit look like a sandwich of the gods.


This story does not end happily. In fact, it ends with me devouring that majority of the said sandwich and an equally greasy small order of some tater tots nonsense. Oh, and then spending a good 20 minutes balking at the sodium and saturated fat levels:
My breakfast of the King= 628 cals, 46 carbs (Atkins-forgive me!!!), 43 fat, 131 cholesterol, 1586 sodium

You got me King. I'm officially terrified of you and what you do to my little sense of self-reserve. If I wasn't already freaked out by your nonsensical ads and mascots.



Now that it's all over, I am going back to my daily smoothie breakfast, and I will punish myself with a hill run tomorrow morning and a 40 minute ab/lower body breaker segment tonight.

Yours, regrettably:
Chelles

Get At It

Wow. Gone since March.

Well, dont I feel like a fool.

The last time I wrote, I had just finished running my first 5K of the year. Since then, I ran a 10K and another 5K, moved to a different (and more awesome) neighborhood, officially started living with my SOB (significant other Brendan), and learned a whole bunch of awesome sauce things about myself that are too plentiful to list.

The one thing I haven't done, though? Lost weight. Me, High Empress of Consistency, hasn't managed to make the scales budge. AT ALL.

Oh sure, my 5K time is 5-6 minutes faster, run 11 miles straight, swim three different strokes for 300 meters without a rest, and constantly beat everyone in the mileage challenge at my regular spin class.

But that scale, yeah, it's a fickle bitch.

It hasn't been without trying. I mean, my schedule is pretty awesome:
Monday: 120 minutes of high intensity cardio (run, hill climbs, spin class or by myself, row machines, kickboxing, elliptical of doom, etc.)
Tuesday: 5am recovery run, 40 minutes of full body strength training
Wednesday: 60 minute swim training and possibly a spin class if I get there on time and can be persuaded by the teacher.
Thursday: 5am speed run, 40 minutes of more strength training
Friday: 60 minutes of yoga, pilates, and walk or hill runs
Saturday: SPIN CLASS FROM HELLLLLL
Sunday: Long run of 5+ miles or races and another 40 minutes of strength

I devote over 500 minutes of working this body till it's covered in sweat and screaming for a break. I've pushed it to some insane (and often smelly) limits.

But nada results.

I need a cookie. Fine. I want it. Damnit.

How's my eating... well, you can check out my sparkpage for that info. Just look at my food logs. I get in some decent food. I'm working on more veggies and less carbs thing. It's a process, I hear.

So, what am I doing back in blogger world? Well. On spark, I sadly have to censor myself. Sometimes I want to use the "f" or similar singular letter'd words, but get the big error button when I try to submit it. Other times, I want to talk more about my personal life, but I feel a bit off doing it there. Sure, I'll keep doing my weekly updates, but I'm hoping to keep this ol' blog alive. This is my space to vent about the joys of weight loss and fitness training. I've got some big goals to accomplish, like running the Chicago Rock n' Roll Half in August, and this is my space to be like "fuck it, I wanna run freeeee."

Another confession before I hit the "publish post" button? See, I have this thing called depression. Me and 9.5% of America suffer or make ourselves suffer through it. It's dark hole suckage and it sadly encompasses more than my personal head space. It grips and pulls at everyone and thing close to me until we are all nothing but couch dwellers, sheet hiders, and stagnant robots. It's been over 10 years since my diagnosis, and yet I still haven't found the perfect mixture of coping methods. Running myself in to a frenzy and punishing myself in spin classes have oddly helped me over the last year. But, lately, I've felt more detached, more tired, and more nothing. There will be times when this blog will be nothing but a space for me to be a whiny bitch, and I apologize in advance. I know that my depression lasts for months at a time and then will go away, so just know, it's temporary. Seasons change, and so does my mind. We are all evolving creatures.

To sum this awkward rambling of a blog post up, if you read these furthermore posts, feel free to comment. I dont expect it, but welcome it. Give me feedback. Yell at me and my confessions. If I take more than one rest day in a row, send me hate mail. And if I eat more than 2000 calories a day, please, feel free to come on over to the Up and Up apartment complex and steal my bucket of fried chicken from under me.

She Dreams Of Running a 5K

Thanks Matt and Kim for that little bit of inspiration.

I know that I rarely write about my fitness activities here. If you want to keep up with my 400 minimum minutes of fitness per week, check out my blog at: http://www.sparkpeople.com/mypage_public_journal.asp?id=CHELLES_BELLS I update it at least once a week with my training schedule, recaps on runs, and general musings about my activities.

Since I've become more active, I've been more and more willing to try new things. I've become a spin class devotee, a weekly swimmer, and have gotten back to weekly yoga sessions. But most importantly, I've re-learned how to love running.

I began running over two years ago. I completed the famous Couch to 5K program in record time and began running 20-30 minutes every day... which I quickly learned was the fastest way to injure yourself.

*Also not helping: My inability to read the warning signs and buy properly fitted running shoes. Going out to a shoe carnival is not the same as going to a running or athletic store, asking for them to fit you and check your gait, and getting shoes that are made for how your stride forms.

So, there I was, about 3 months in to running and I was stuck on the injury report. Over the next couple of years, my friends became more active. More and more ran local 5K races, some even progressing on to 10Ks or marathons. I browsed through their facebook pictures and blog recaps like they were pictures of the hot girl my ex was now dating. Seriously, it was all jealous rage.

Lack of properly fitted pants got me back on track. I wanted to run again, and I wanted to do it right. I started off slowly, very slowly. And I tried new programs that promoted rest days and walk breaks (i.e. Jeff Galloway's marathon and race training books). I got a subscription to Runner's World and a new pair of shoes when my old ones ran out of mileage.

And with each step, I became that girl who ran outside in the winter. The one with her headphones blasting Passion Pit and U2. The one who woke up before the sun so she could have quality alone time with the sidewalk. I ran up and down beaches, to little lighthouses on piers, on the tracks around parks, and down alleyways. I ran slow on most days and then fast when I could get time on a treadmill.

All the while, I had one race on my mind: The St. Paddy's Day 5K on March 20th.

It was a typical March day- windy, chilly, and potential for rain. Seeing all the other runners around made me only more nervous. But I kept repeating my mantra in my head:


I even took a typical Chelles-esque picture (smiling with mouth open, two thumbs up):


Without much warning, the race started. Well, actually, there was a ton of warning. I'm wearing #24, but that's 24 out of 6000+ runners, walkers, stroller pushers, and dogs. Just getting to the start line was a push. I couldn't start my run for 2 or 3 minutes because of the amount of people. And when I did, I was weaving around obstacles like leprechaun costumes, cancer survivors holding hands, and several large dogs. Near a half of a mile, we went through a medium length tunnel. It was so congested, I barley walked... my time was dwindling.

The next two miles were a blur. This wasn't my first 5K, so the distance was familiar. I just took my strides and did my intervals like a good Galloway student. And when my shins started acting up, I repeated my motto and pushed through.

Near a quarter of a mile left to go, B was there... taking pictures. He basically ran with me to the end. None of these pictures are flattering (my jacket is huge on me now... but my legs look skinny!), so here's the one that doesn't repulse me the most:

Reminder to self: work on posture near the end of runs.

And at a certain time that was about 3 minutes over my average, normal 5K time... I finished. I beat around 400 other people, so that's comforting to my overly competitive self. I rewarded my efforts with a rain soaked banana. And then I won a sweet Lord Voldermort tshirt.

But more importantly, I finished what I had started 3 years ago. And now I can continue working on training for that half. I'll try to remember to post more about fitness here as it is a big part of my life.

Simplify: 50 Things

I've been moving from here and there for awhile now. In fact, I've been in 4 different apartments in three years. It's meant that I've practically lived out of half empty boxes and stored my things carelessly.

Today, I signed my fifth lease. That's right... I'm on the move again- to a literal, deluxe apartment in the sky. Right next to the lake, includes access to a roof top deck and fitness room, and will be shared with my wonderful boyfriend, B. The only downside is that it is quite small.

I need to come to terms with the word: simplify.

When I came across a blog challenge to rid myself of 50 things, I jumped on it. Since I have another month and a quarter to pack and move, I have plenty of time to sort it out, but this is the place that I want to document those 50 things. If you see something you like, holla atcha girl and I will arrange for you to pick it up or have it sent to you. If not, it's being donated (when possible) and tossed (when necessary) before May 1st.

Now, for the list:

50. Books- My Twilight book series, 4 monologue books for women and duets (seriously, these are great books, but I dont want to get back in to acting), Making It on Broadway, a campy erotica book, and John Updike's "Marry Me."

49. Music Books and Collections- Suzuki Violin School Piano Accompaniments Vl 1, Guitar for the Small Fry, Richard Pick's Interludes for Guitar, The Best Wedding Songs Ever (70 popular vocal and piano songs), Amy Grant's Greatest Hits (I have no idea why I have this), Bastein's Piano for Adults Book 1, Bastien's Scales Chords, & Apreggios, Schaum's Fingerpower Level 2. If you are a music teacher, I would be willing to donate my West Side Story or Les Miserables song collection books.

48. A broken beyond repair computer. Would give to someone interested in computer parts.

47. Authentic Spanish maraca and potentially a working, but 40+ year old clarinet for a music classroom ONLY

46. Two computer carry-on bags. One is a red sleeve and the other is a black and multi-colored star carrying case.

45. Wallets- a red hard case, a yellowish gold soft case, and a purple (thin) hardcase. All are from target and everything works. Will throw in old J-pass, some business cards, and two empty cta passes!

44. Bags- a black athletic bag, a large red duffle bag, and a broken black luggage bag with wheels

43. Blankets- A silky deep purple twin sized blanket that's great for the summer and Fall

42. (I'll continue updating this and re-posting links as I go through)

I Found...

I've been really in a writing slump lately. My life has been work -> dinner -> gym -> tv -> bed for the last couple of months. I have been writing diligently in my fitness blog at sparkpeople, but really, I doubt you want to read about my love affair with my strength training program or how I magically transcend in to an outside layer of Hell when I'm on the elliptical for more than a half hour.

And originally, this post was supposed to be about Valentine's Day. I had a great one, thanks for asking. It was just what I wanted- informal but special at a new restaurant (and I didn't pay!). We did tapas- yummy, seafood-filled, mousse covered tapas.

As I was getting ready for a special night out with boyfriend, I decided it was time to put away my tired old rings and grab a rarely worn sparkler.

My two older rings consist of a claddagh ring I've had since my freshman year of high school. I'm not Irish- not even close. But it was trendy to wear one as a sign of your relationship status. My other ring is my parent's engagement ring. I'm not sure I wear it, or why I wear it every day. That's something you could psychoanalyze for me in the comment section.

As I was rummaging through my old jewelry box, I came across something I didn't recognize immediately. It was a pretty silver band with four or five aquamarine stones. Nothing significant or stunning, and to be quite honest, it didn't even match my dress.

But after a few moments of wearing it, the significance of what I was trying on hit me. This piece of jewelry was given to me as a promise ring almost 3 years ago. It was a ring I never, ever took off... until the very end.

The last day I wore it was the night of my sister's wedding. I still remember the long drive home in which, being in tears, I flung it into a dusty cup holder where it sat forgotten for about a month. Fragments of food, dirt, and drops of soda covered it as I spent my summer in a complete state of disarray- moving from one place to the next, one "relationship" to another.

When I sold my car to my cousin months later, I found it underneath a stale mountain dew. It certainly had seen its share of hot days in the sun and many bottoms of various canisters. (editor's note: metaphor much?). I remember bringing it in to my new apartment, washing it off, and then calling the giver for one of the last times.

For over a year, it sat in the back of a jewelry box, never getting a second glance. And when it finally had its moment of consideration, it did nothing but bring up cold, dead moments from a relationship not meant to be. Without a second thought, it went back to where it came from- back to the bottom of a filled up ring drawer of a wooden jewelry box.

What does one do with a ring like that? It's value is pretty low, nothing worth the hassle of selling. I know my mom would suggest taking the blue stones out and making it in to another piece of jewelry, but I dont have the money or effort for that.

And to be quite honest, I dont have the heart to just throw it out. This ring is symbolic of my first love and real relationship. It represents 4 years of college. 4 years of fights, plans, trips, kisses, apartments/dorms, bedrooms, and couches. And while it was given to me with the intention that those 4 years would be everlasting, it just wasn't. It was a stereotypical college romance that came to end as poetically as a rhyme scheme.

Anyone want a ring?

Bear Down

The last week has been pure luck and drama. One of the better moments happened on Tuesday.

For the longest time, I've wanted to do something special with B. I was considering concert tickets to see The Decemberists when I got an email from my friend Katie about how her boyfriend was going to attempt buying NFC Bears v. Packers tickets at 2pm. I really didn't think much of it, except... "good luck on that one." My sister had just bought tickets the day before through ebay and paid through the roof with the rest of the crazies. No way was anyone going to get them through ticketmaster (at face value!).

Out of curiosity, I signed on at around 2pm to see the price of the tickets. When the ticket options popped up, I went to the next step and tried to see where the tickets were located. To my complete and utter surprise, two tickets appeared in a decent section and for a very reasonable price. Without hesitation, I purchased them and then went to my twitter page to brag.

On Sunday, I had gotten up extra early for a morning run. Since I have been diligent about planning my runs every week and sticking to my schedule, I knew that Sunday morning would be met with a bone chilling outdoor 2 miler. I was all ready to lace up my shoes and head out the door when I looked out my window and saw the massive amount of snow that had fallen (and was still falling). The fact that it was snowing outside got me excited for an extra scenic run, but I was not ready for the icky conditions.

With yaktraks on, I turned the corner for my regular path only to find that it was wayyyy too slippery. I turned around and headed down the main street. Luckily, I live next to a major university that sits on the lake, so I figured I would run their lake path, snow be damned. As the minutes ticked down, my legs were really struggling to push through the snow, and my pace was about 12:30 and slowing. As soon as my shins started aching, I turned around, ran about 300 more yards and walked the rest of the way home. It was a 1.5 mile run in 22 minutes. Obviously not my best since I consistently run a 11:15 pace for about 2 miles or more, but I continue to remind myself that at least I got up and did it. 3 months ago, I would never have dreamed of running in 10 degree weather, in extremely snowy and icy conditions, but I did! VICTORY!

After I came back from the run and showered, boyfriend B and I got ready to go to the Bears game.

Here are some pictures:

I actually wore about 4 layers of pants and shirts, three layers being what I wore for my early morning run. The sun went down around 4pm, and thank goodness we were so layered up because my toes were not happy with me come the second half!


The walk to the stadium from the Red line is about a mile + and the path wraps around the museum campuses. But you can see all of Chicago from the walk, including the stadium. It was actually a great additional workout, as when we were heading back to the CTA stop, we had to jump over some poorly placed fences. See, I can even do hurdles now!


View from our seats! We could see pretty much all the plays as they happened. We were sitting by some low key and equally intense fans. Since my comprehension of the game is in the medium range, I'd say that being around crazies made the game even more enjoyable. But I totally miss the atmosphere of a crazy soccer game with the unified chanting and singing! This stadium needs a megaphone-d leader and some tifo displays asap!


B and I certainly are not a picture happy couple, and we always fail at taking our own. This one, in my opinion is adorable. Plus, he still has his beard, and I LOVE THE BEARD!


They're doing burpees down there... which is exactly what I did when I got home for the CAMO (my Biggest Loser team) football challenge. The deal was that we had to do 10 strength training exercises per touchdown scored by the opposite team. 3 Green Bay touch downs = 30 pushups, crunches, squats, and burpees. It certainly got the circulation back to my legs.


... and one last cute one of us! This is before the screaming and chanting started, so we look pretty calm. It was a great, exciting game, even if the Bears lost.

A Story For Princess Madison

Once upon a time, there was a princess. For entertainment purposes only, we will call this princess Aunt Michelle. But she was a princess, and quite beautiful, to boot. She should also add that her sister was a mermaid:


Princess Michelle and Mermaid Angela had an older brother, not quite a prince... as you can tell by past family pictures:


As Princess Michelle, Mermaid Angela, and Backwoods Brother Matt grew up, they always wished there would be another addition to their family.

Years passed and Backwoods Brother stopped crossing his eyes long enough to learn how to play music. He was good, though Queen Patty would also say that his playing stage presence left something to be desired.


Those sick musical skills came in handy when he met and wooed a Fair Maiden from a different royal family. Some would say it was love at first sight. Though, Princess Michelle worries for the sanity of the Fair Maiden. I mean, look at Backwoods Brother!


But, love is blind (or cross eyed) and soon enough, Princess Michelle, Mermaid Angela, Backwoods Brother, Fair Maiden, and the rest of the gain (Queen Mum Nanni, Queen Patty, King Al, and Duchesses Phil and Jo-Jo) were excited to welcome the newest member of their clan!

One cold day in January, King Al took Princess Michelle out for her first driving lesson on Nanni's old steer. He was quite terrified because Princess Michelle had just received her driver's permit and had never been behind the wheel before. It was also not a bright or sunny day and there was still snow on the ground from Christmas. But off they went...


Soon, King Al received a call on the royal cellular phone.

(It was only 2002... cell phones were obviously not as small or functional back then)

It was Backwoods Brother calling to say that the new Princess was arriving at that very moment! King Al panicked and forcibly pulled Princess Michelle's horse over and took over the reigns. Off they went to the hospital!


After King Al's crazy drive over (which included almost being pulled over by the kingdom's sheriff), Princess Michelle was super happy to see that all of the royal subjects had gathered in the comfortable waiting room. "Any minute now..." she thought, "Any minute and we will finally get to meet the newest little princess!"

Well, minutes passed... and then hours... Princess Michelle became restless and resorted to reading hospital pamphlets and watching old episodes of Maury.

But just when she thought she couldn't wait any longer, the newest Princess arrived. Princess Michelle could have sworn that moment she knew that Princess Madison had arrived, trumpets sounded and parades went by (but it turned out it was just Mermaid Angela practicing). Either way, everyone in the Kingdom were so happy to welcome such a beautiful baby- maybe one of the fairest she will ever see. (she got that fairness from her mom)

As Princess Madison grew up, Princess Michelle could only love her more. She knew that one day, she would grow up and do great things. Maybe be a pilot of a huge plane:

Or a famous dancer:

But Princess Michelle knew that she could do anything because, on the day she was born, Princess Michelle knew that she was special. Princess Madison was everyone's wish come true. And, even when she was too young to speak, she could make anyone smile, even the often grumpy Mermaid Angela.

Today, just happens to be Princess Madison's birthday. And even though Princess Michelle is ruling over another kingdom far away, she thinks of Princess Madison every day and counts down the days till she gets to see her again. But, in the meantime, she knows that Princess Madison will always be kind to others and take care of those in need- including Prince Alex. She will be a good student and an even better friend. And in the next 9 years, she will learn to drive, go to high school, look at colleges, figure out long division, and maybe even meet a worthy boy to take to dances.

So here's to Princess Madison's "Happily Ever After!"