"Single life is the good life until you meet someone who shows you the better life."

Workout Diary

Some quick Jillian Michaels/high intensity interval training ass-kissing..

Interval training is the new low-intensity cardio training. It promotes a maximal stationary metabolic rate and strength training AKA something most women avoid due to the fear of bulking up.

Since I weighed myself a month ago, I’ve lost 5 lbs from doing a month of Jillian (without dieting). I’ve probably fluctuated since then as I’ve paid no attention to my diet and have missed consecutive days of exercise due to exams. Ain’t no thing.. I plan to pick up right where I left off!

Problems..
Repetitive. Feels as though you can plough through each workout after doing it a couple of times. Instead of three months to plateau, three weeks with workout videos seems plausible.

Solutions..Up the weights! Simple enough. Mix exercises from the different workouts provided from the video; incorporate exercises that attempt to isolate parts of your body. I stole a ToneItUp inner-thighs workout and added it to one of the strength training intervals of my workout. It motivates you to keep going because you know you’re focusing on your own problem areas.

And of course, I hit a wall..Around a month into using HIIT as daily exercise, I was freaking out because I thought my thighs were bulking up. Turns out, it was just my quadriceps underneath a layer of fat that was getting bigger and more solid.

My cousin, who swears by Jillian Michaels, begged me to keep going. She insisted that my quadricep muscles would get strong enough to burn the overlying fat and soon my thighs would be pure muscle; and if my quads were to get too big, revert to low-intensity cardio for muscle-shrinking.

After a week off HIIT and back onto elliptical, I was just like.. fuck this. Even though my legs were noticeably bigger, running/jogging wasn’t for me. Maybe it’s due to a lack of patience. Or because everything feels so leisure-oriented. Don’t get me wrong, I admire runners. Sprinters have that gorgeous streamline body, and the thighs on a jogger are worst enemies (they don’t touch!).

Anyways, I’ve continued on and off (mostly off for the last few weeks) and my legs are getting slimmer. My inner thighs have lost a good amount of fat (when I say good, I mean--I feel good about it), and they’ve accumulated some muscle definition. So proud of myself! I don’t feel as though I have the most rockingest bod as I could, but I’m truly loving and appreciating any signs of all the sweat I put into shaping this body.

Remember..Diet is 80% of losing weight. If you’re not in it to win it, you might as well give up. Shit food = shit body; good food = bangin’ body!

Stairs is great interval cardio training. Maximal energy exertion is key to HIIT. The more you feel like you’re going to die, the better the results.

Never let anyone try to tell you what you should look like. Your body is yours, and as much as some of us hate it, a lot of its blueprint has been pre-determined for us. So, embrace it. Likewise, if you think stick-thin is beautiful, go for it. If you think muscular is sexy, go for it. If you think working out is a waste of time, then congrats to you... you love your body for what it is--no changes necessary. Like I said, be proud of the work you do for your body. Ain’t nothing wrong with being loud and proud of what your body looks like! Self-love is #1.

Continuity..

My summer is going to try its best to consist of a bit of Jillian every single day. I used to be a huge fan of the treadmill (swiftly moving onto the elliptical); but I can’t get over how great it feels to use weights. You feel stronger. My metabolism has definitely gone up since starting--after an hour of eating, I feel that pleasant burn in my tummy that signals digestion.

Bikini bod, I’m coming for ya.. So get scared.

Tainted love

Some people love tarnished silver.
They find it gives character; a uniqueness that is only possible through time.

Some people hate it. They consider it a form of aging; of perpetual decay. It is when stark perfection comes to a halt and we realize--nothing remains perfect forever.

I, for one, adore tarnished silver. Oxidization is a friend of mine.

Je pense/a l'avenir

Still waiting on that call. If this is a strategy to make me want this job more than I actually do, then damn girl. She is a dentist and her own boss for a reason.

I'm deliriously happy that I'm at home at three in the afternoon, with half the day ahead of me to study alone. Solitude is my means of rejuvenation.

I am not a fan of those who feel they have the right to make certain claims about my life. Remember where you stand in my life; as a friend, not my mother.

I'm really disappointed in my performance at school. I am further discouraged by my peers' attitudes. Competition and jealousy brings out the ugliest in humanity. I cannot stress how not impressed I am with how some people carry themselves in the equally revealing occasions of triumph and defeat. You think you know some people.

I could go on forever about school. I miss my friends. They carpool everyday together; those simple everyday encounters are so important these days.

On the other hand, I feel as though if I got into UBC, I'd be doing it to prove something. And that's not how I want to live my life; doing things to please others. I want to make myself happy on my own terms. I have yet to apply. My average is a B/B+ as of right now (or so I think). I have no idea whether this is worthy of the prestigious (and elitist) character that is the University of British Columbia and all of its followers. I have been increasingly reluctant towards the entire process of applying. My only sense of gratification would be found in the approval of others; the seamless nod that I am fitting into society's conception of the status quo. It makes me sick. It makes me even sicker watching friends and strangers do the things they were told to do, only to find themselves in a perpetual search for a potential passion in the collegiate curriculum.

The anticipation to be free from academic responsibility and into the world of luscious grass and sunshine is killing me. I am stoked on swimming again. I'm not gonna lie; those one week crash courses were brutal but so fulfilling at the same time.

I also can't wait to get out of the city. I made the (this is going to come out nothing but bitchy) mistake of asking too many people to join me in my little withdrawal from the real world. It has landed me in a position where my plans now revolve around them; the selfish aspect of my retreat is gone. Excess enthusiasm has generated so much unnecessary resentment. Trust me, I smh at myself for being such a self-centered bitch about it and creating my own problems at the same time.

I'm taking Math 12 again. AND I'M GOING TO MAKE IT MY BITCH. Some people think it's a sucky situation, but I feel like math is important; I should really put my time and effort into it. Despite everything we did in highschool to avoid it, math is important. And most of all, math is a contributing factor to my future. No PR consultant is going to get out of learning how to do stats..

Lastly, I want to read. The luxury of time is at my hands this summer, and I will honour it by reading.

That is all.    

Too blessed to be stressed

butterflies. sweet kisses. deep kisses. Asian kisses. tummy rubs. neck nuzzles. face nuzzling. biting, lots of biting. swoon (the scarlett ohara kind). lift me off my feet--literally. piggy backs that lead to near choking. laughter. smile. kiss. shake hands. hold hands. hold both hands. hug. squeeze (attempt to suffocate). tickle. laugh. laugh. laugh. wrestle. fight. yell. hurt. dislike. the simple act of giving a shit... no more yelling. long talks. sleepless nights [on the phone]. the world is finally at peace.. rise and grind.  smile. sunshine (even when it's not sunny). blessed. rejoice. happy.  rinse, repeat.

Like the sun, won't you stay..

All kinds of beautiful that end my day.

Period Talk

As a small attempt in hoping my period comes sooner, I have switched into my Blackberry case and will start eating copious amounts of ice cream. I need my period to arrive already, because I'm in need of reassurance in my most recent emotionally-driven antics.

Y'all know you're officially cray cray when you start admitting to your antics..

My boyfriend is taking a lot of the heat. He's annoyingly accepting of this entire process; he went as far as to say, "Baby.. Are you on your period? I know around the second week of the month is when your cycle starts."

Bitch, please. I am not on my period.

Yet.

I want me some fucking ice cream!!!!!!!

What's Missing

"Ce qui manque" as Chu puts it.

Writing my paper, waiting for my coffee buzz to die down.. stalking my ex-boyfriend on Facebook for a little bit (don't act like you never).. I think I know what's missing.

No. It's not him (Thank God).

At least not him per se. It's more as though, while I was looking at pictures of him (DON'T ACT LIKE YOU NEVER), I asked myself "How much did I love him again?" Did the last few years really revolve around him?

It seems like it never happened at all. It seems non-existent. Or otherwise, insignificant and frivolous.

My heartstrings no longer pull at the sight of him. The chronic feelings of jealousy have completely dissipated in his wake. All feared prospects of previous attachment is gone. I'm free.

I should feel exhilerated. I should be running down the street, screaming at the top of my lungs that I've finally mentally and emotionally let you go.

If you wanna fly,

you gotta let go of the shit that weighs you

down.

But I don't. I feel half-empty. I don't even know whether it's a void that needs to be filled or not; I just know that right now it is wasting away. Abandoned and left to die. I wanna say it's becoming obsolete.. but how can I go and say that when I am in a relationship with someone who is desperately trying make things work?

He is sweet. And honest. And caring. And captivating. And funny. And smart. And strong. And thoughtful. What is wrong with me? Clearly, I am unappreciative. And thoughtless. And inconsiderate. And insulting. And out of my mind.

How is it that I feel like my insides are dead? As though my heart has stopped beating and incapable of  feeling that magic that only people who are really love feel.

What I'm trying to say is that, my heartstrings to pull for anyone anymore. What does this mean?

Think for me.

x, K