22000 Steps


In the last 2 days, I’ve done 22,000 plus steps.

On Sunday, I played in a scrimmage that beat the heck out of me.

Monday, I started my new job.   Working at Wal-mart, in the dairy section.   Putting out jugs of milk and other dairy products.   (btw – they’re heavy)

Today, I worked again.  It’s milk delivery day.    There was something like a million jugs of milk that needed to be put out.  (yes, I exaggerate)

Sooooo working at Wal-mart means I do a LOT of cardio; I do a LOT of lifting; and I do a LOT of core work.   I get paid to work out.

8 hours a day right now.   For the next 3 weeks.  I think I work 10 days.

That’s 80 hours in the next 3 weeks of physical activity.

I’ve been a job snob in the past…  I’ll never dis working at Wal-mart again :)   It’s got benefits and perks that I hadn’t really thought about.

Exercise Underutilized

(unless you get paid for it *snicker*)

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Seriously Sore. Seriously Happy.

Gotta love bangovers.

Oh… what’s a bangover?

It’s that feeling you have after a derby bout.  After you’ve been hit over and over and over and over…. and gone back for more.

Tonight was Wreck the Halls – a scrimmage/bout that I played in… with the Prince George team, and some of my team.

I got on my skates, I skated first jam… and thought to myself… “oh frick.  I’m not ready for this”

And almost talked myself out of playing.

And then… this lovely man on our team (yep, co-ed, totally awesome) said to me… “You were great out there!  You just got in their way and you moved from side to side quickly”

Ummmm … what?

What was that? Because THAT is not how I was feeling.  I was feeling uncoordinated, gangly and flail-ly (is that a word?)

But his words did something magical.  You see… I felt awful about my skating.   And then he said that… and I had confidence.

Enough that when the others were tired, I took the star.   I *volunteered* to jam.

Yeah.  Me.  Who thought she couldn’t skate well enough at the BEGINNING of the bout, felt strong enough to JAM.

Uh huh.

I got through the pack.

I could see in the corner of my eye, an opposing blocker coming in for the hit.   I braced… and gave a bit of a hit back.   She learned I’m not so easy to move… (she also landed on her butt – I hope she’s ok)  and I hustled around the track.

I got through the track.   I got tired.  I was wearing out.  And my team yelled at me to call it off…


But I called it off anyhow.

Aaaaaannnnddddd got a penalty.   Delay of game or something like that.   (on a side note, how is that I called it, my ref responded and whistled the end… and *I* am the one getting the penalty?? LOL)

I served my time.

I get back into the pack.

I’m trying to get through, and I feel it… someone tripping over my foot.

Aaaaannnnndddd… I got another penalty.

Yep.  Back to the box.

Next jam comes… and just as the penalty is being released…. the whistles blow…

There was a couple mins of “does she have to play or can anyone jam?”

Oh. My. Gawd.  Thank goodness someone else was able to jam.

I had so much fun out there… but I was seriously worn out by the end of it.

I’ve come to 2 conclusions as a result of this.

1. I need to do cardio.   I need my body to be able to move fast, move hard and keep going after being pushed around because….
2. I want to jam.   I want to be one of the jammers people don’t expect.  I want to be the one who  can take out the opposite jammer off the line and muscle her way through and get the points.   I’m not bouncy.  I’m solid and I’m tough and I’m a force to be reckoned with.

So cardio.  Weights.   Cardio.  HIIT.   Cardio.  And more cardio.

Because I am going to freaking ROCK this.

Off the Line

There’s me in the purple helmet, off the line.   Photo Credit to Lori Kroeker.

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I Should Clean Off My Treadmill

I moved.

I didn’t move far.   I moved from the ENTIRE house, into the basement suite.

I went from having a couple storage spaces, several closets, and a CRAFT room… to a 3 bedroom basement suite about 1200 sq ft.

It’s a little smaller than I’d like.

I’m also a bit of a paper hoarder…


What’s in them?


I don’t remember.

Hey!  Stop that!  Laughing at me… *grumbles*

So at any rate.  These boxes full of VERY IMPORTANT PAPERS are currently living on my treadmill… my set up treadmill.  In my living room.   With no place for me to RUN.

I want to run.

I have this urge to run.

Outside doesn’t work – there’s 3 feet of snow.

So I need my treadmill.

And floor space.  Because I want to do yoga.  And weight training.  And I want. to. get. FIT.

Seriously fit.


There’s boxes on my treadmill.   Someone put them there.  I dont’ know who…. (ok it was me) and I dont’ really have another spot for them.

Did I mention I went from 7 bedroom house to 3 bedroom basement suite?

Yeah.  More stuff than space.

Some of my stuff is still upstairs.   I’ll get it back eventually.   But not right now… there’s no space for it LOL

But back to the treadmill.

I want to run.  It’s my option to run.  And I can’t because of the damn boxes.

So I should clean off my treadmill.   So I can run.   Because I want to run.

When I wake up tomorrow…. I will clean off my treadmill…

Exercise Underutilized

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Derby Kicked My ASS!

I love derby.  Have I mentioned how much I love derby?

Yeah, I haven’t been going to derby, despite my assertations that I WANTED to go to derby.

There was always a reason.

There was always an excuse.

And some of them were GOOD.

Tonight though?  Liz picked me up.  I promised her I would go.  I told her to come pick me up. I need derby.

She picked me up.

We went to derby.

The “warm up” (and I use that term loosely) just about killed me.   And then we skated.

I am not my weight.  I know I am not my weight.  But when I add 30lbs to my body, I feel it.  I hurt. I can’t skate as far as fast or as well.

And I struggled tonight.   But I did it.  I pushed myself.  And I will continue to go, to push myself, to drop the 30lbs I gained and get to where I want to be.

But derby kicked my ass tonight.  And I loved every minute.

Even when I was complaining.

Even when Liz *snickered* at me and said “perhaps you should come more often….”

Ummm yeah.

Jane Bouting

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I have *missed* derby.

There was a practice in Prince George at the Rolla-dome on Sunday for the fresh meat.

I went with with.

I wanted to see where I was at after a summer of not doing much of anything.

I wasn’t in a good place.  Not really.

Good thing I don’t have to retest again – but I’m so going to more practices so I can get my “skate legs” back under me.

I also need to get back on my program.

And detox off sugar.

Depression and stress does funny things to me.  I don’t function well – and I revert to an unhealthy way of living and an unhealthy way of eating.

It’s not good.

I’ve gained weight.

I’ve lost energy.

I am kinda done.

I was happy a year ago.  Happy-ish.   Happier.

But derby.  Derby feeds my soul.  Derby keeps me sane.  Derby gives me all those good endorphins that help me feel good.

Eating healthy does that too.

Eating a bag of candies doesn’t.

Drinking a 2L of pop doesn’t.

Scarfing down a bunch of cookies doesn’t.

I want to be happy.   I want to feel good.  I want to be energetic.

And I want to be GOOD at derby.  Not just… “ok”

Jane Bouting

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I Lost My Mind

According to Albert Einstein, the definition of insanity is “Doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results”

Yeah.  I’ve been insane lately.

I’ve reverted back to eating habits that brought me to 270lbs.

I’ve reverted to exercise habits that left me gasping for air up a flight of stairs.

I’ver reverted to hydration habits that leaves me parched and sucking back whatever liquid that touches my lips like it’s the last liquid I’ll ever see.

And I’ve gone insane.

I’m not happy.  And I’ve been blaming it on other people.

I’m not happy because he’s not doing this.  Because the children ARE doing that.  Because no one is doing the other thing and I have to fucking do it ALL.

A conversation with the man and I went something along the lines of “I’m not telling you you’re doing it WRONG, just that it could be done DIFFERENT”

But the insanity, coupled with my depression and anxiety, added to the mix of not fueling my body correctly, left me feeling… inadequate.  Not good enough.  Not enough.

(oh wait!  that’s a long running theme from my childhood… never good enough)

My goal, for the last 11 weeks of this year, is to do the things I know work.

Follow my fitness program.  Eat clean, whole foods.  Assume the best of the people around me.  Love with my whole heart.   Love MYSELF and accept that I AM enough.  I am MORE than enough.

Because someone told me – and I don’t remember who – that the things I see reflected back at me are the things in myself I’m not happy with.

I want to be at peace with myself.  I want to be happy with myself.  I want to be ENOUGH for myself.

And then, when I’ve achieved that, I will FEEL that I am for everyone else.

We Believe

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Yoga Wore Me Out


27 mins of yoga.

3 hours of nap.

That’s how MY morning went…

Yoga Morning

But hey!!! I DID YOGA TODAY!

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