Posts Tagged ‘karate’

Holy Crap Was That a Long Fall!

Ok, so BuddhaBelly officially fell off the wagon a few weeks ago.

Like, really fell. Massive drop. At least a good 20 feet.

I don’t really have an excuse. Yes, things got super busy. Yes, I suffered through a truly annoying flu. And yes, I got a new tattoo (even though I was supposed to wait until I lost all my blubber…more on that later) and so I had to hold off on getting sweaty so that it could heal. But really, there’s no reason why I couldn’t have plowed through those obsticles.

So here I am, feeling incredibly guilty, ashamed and well…FAT.


I haven’t stepped on the scale yet (which has collected some serious dust I might add) but I’m pretty damn sure I’ve gain every inch and pound back because once again, nothing fits.

My Dojo is probably wondering what the hell happened to me…again. And truth be told I’m a bit embarressed to go back but next week I have to. For both my pride and my weight.

Baby and Me Fitness is probably assuming that I’m A) not interested anymore, or B) out having another baby or something.

Weight Watchers has totally left mind and body. While I haven’t been eating horrible or anything, I haven’t been watching what I eat either.

To those who were looking to me for inspiration, I apologize profusely for not being a good role model. For those who were encouraging me, I’m so very sorry for not heeding your words. And to my own sense of self… I deeply regret letting you down.

So next week I’m starting all over. I’m going to hit Baby and Me Fitness every damn day, I’m going back to karate twice a week at least and I’m sticking to Weight Watchers like gum to your shoe. The Holy-Crap-the-Buddha-Belly-Is-Back! Plan will commence as of October 13, 2009.

There. I said it. And now you can hold me to it!

That is all.





Yup. That’s the sound of my diet and exercise regimen exploding from four days of overindulgence.

I feel totally ashamed and to be quite honest, I’m feeling really freaked out that I may have undone all the good I had accomplished in the last two weeks. I am seriously dreading my weekly weigh-in tomorrow.

The slipperly slope started on Sunday when I attended a BBQ/Birthday celebration. I started the party off well — I meticulously chose the lighter fare and counted points values like a nun counts the beads on a rosary. But when the desserts were put out…*sigh*…I don’t know. All will power went out the window and I overindulged in creamy tarts and puff pastries and cups upon cups upon cups of fruit salad.

Now, the upside is that I played about an hour of volleyball with my fellow party-goers after this period of indulgence but I’m almost positive that it hasn’t undone the damage I caused. Oh, and I guess I should mention that I had run out of flex points the day before.

Then came Monday’s BBQ at a friends home where I didn’t even bother to count points or even consider what I was shovelling into my mouth. Oh I brought my trusty Weight Watchers Points book to this BBQ alright. And it stayed in Baby Boy’s diaper bag the entire time. Burgers, chips, cheesies, brownies, dip, chocolate fountain…(yup, you read that correctly, CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN)… I ate it all. And I wouldn’t doubt it if I ate them in that order. And this time there was no volleyball game to salvage some of my dignity.  I didn’t even bother trying to tally up everything I ate and how many points I consumed. I’m pretty sure I ate all my fresh set of flex points in one sitting.

Tuesday I participated in Aquafit with Baby Boy (which ROCKED — more on that later) and was doing pretty good with the diet for most of the day. WW meal for lunch, etc. But then the husband, baby boy and I went to Jack Astors for dinner with my out-of-town-and-visiting parental units and I made the horrible mistake of ordering the chopstick chicken salad again. Ugh. 25 POINTS PEOPLE!!! When I think back I distinctly remember trying to choose between a 6 oz steak with cooked vegetables and a baked potato or the chopstick chicken salad. I had forgotten my Points book at home and so I was trying to remember how many points everything was. Eventually I gave up and figured a salad must be better than steak and potatoes.

[insert buzzer noise here] WRONG!!!

6 oz steak with baked potato and cooked veggies: 21 points. Jack Astors Chopstick Chicken Salad: 25 points. Both are horrible dinner options. But one is four points more horrible than the other.

Now, I could have just chocked up the experience to falling off the wagon and made a pact to climb back on. But instead, I decided to let the wagon run me over by further indulging in not one, but TWO Cadbury Thins when I got home. AND I skipped out on karate too. I managed to get my Gi on but made it as far as the front door before I said “F&#@* it” and turned around and took a nice, long, hot shower instead.

But wait, THERE’S MORE!

Today I managed to drag my sorry butt (and baby boy’s) to TurboFit class, determined for a fresh start and to stay on track. I hauled ass during my class and hoofed it all the way to Golden Griddle where I was to meet my out-of-town-and-visiting parental units. Now, the logical part of my brain said “Just order an egg white omelet and be done with it“. But the fat-ass part of my brain said “Dude, I’m starved. Just go with the buffet and eat wisely. Actually, scratch that. Dude, just go with the buffet!

Sadly, the fat-ass part of my brain won.

And the day unravelled from there. 3 more Cadbury Thin bars (that’ll teach me to buy them from Costco!) and battered fish-and-chips for dinner rounded out my gluttony-fest. And now I’m sitting here, feeling completely horrified that I’ve let myself go so unhinged when I’ve only been fighting the battle for a few weeks and wishing there was a way I could open my stomach and just empty all the contents and start over. I can’t believe that rather than hold myself accountable and deal with how over-point I’ve been the past four days, I’d rather just say “screw it” and not record the points (or count them for that matter) at all.

This is a low moment for the Buddha belly I’m afraid.

But this Buddha Belly is not KO’d just yet! Ohhhhhh no! Tomorrow is a new day! And while I’m sure I have gained back the three pounds I had initially lost, I know that I can lose them again and get myself back on track — this time with even more determination! More stamina! More willpower! Yeeeeah baby! I can do this!!!

But first I’m going to spend the rest of the evening throwing a pity party for myself and hiding from the scale.


I figured I should share my overall game plan for those of you who are following along. I find that giving myself a goal, a reward and a way to get there helps me stay on target. So for all you post-pregger-ladies out there (and those gals who just want to lose the belly in general), here is Buddha Belly’s game plan:


Obviously my goal is too lose an incredible amount of post-baby weight. But for every weight-loss-seeking gal out there I’m sure there’s that one piece of clothing that you are just dying to wear without having to suck in your stomach, wear a girdle underneath or feel incredibly self-conscious. For me, that one piece of clothing is my beloved new PUMA shirt.

Puma shirt

The Beloved-but-Stupidly-Purchased PUMA Shirt

See, I had bought this shirt about a month or so after having given birth to Baby Boy. I think I was delirious or something. I mean, granted I had bought the shirt in size XL but, seriously?   PUMA seems to think that an XL person has a 27 inch waist and jogs half a mile every day.   In the real world, an XL PUMA shirt is a Medium at best. So when I tried the shirt on and the Buddha belly stretched through the middle of the shirt, as much as I loved the colour and style on me, anyone with half a brain would have accepted the fact that it didn’t fit and put the damn thing back. But oh no, not me. I had to buy the shirt with the delusion that “in a few weeks I’ll be able to wear it, no problem“.

It’s now four months later and I still can’t wear the bloody thing.  It’s tucked into the darkest depths of my drawer, hoping, praying that one day I will wear it again without looking like I’m still nine months pregnant.

So long story short. That’s my goal. To lose 30 pounds and to be able to wear that beautiful Tiffany-blue PUMA shirt with my chin held high (and looking mighty damn good in it too!)


The husband will either kill me or divorce me. One or the other. But I’m getting myself this reward anyhow. This is my struggle and my journey and so I get to chose my reward dagnabit!

My reward for losing all 30 pounds (AND being able to fit into my Puma shirt) is to get 2 TATTOOS to go along with my others.

Now, the reason the husband will kill me is that he hates tattoos. I mean he loathes them. He hates the tattoos I already have. Always has. And he thinks that now that I have a child I should grow up and forget all about tattoos and piercings etc etc etc.

Pfffft…yah, OK.

The two tattoos that I will be getting as my reward are:

1. a silhouette of a charging bull on my lower back (I’m a Taurus and I’m stubborn and determined…it’s a perfect fit I think)


2. my Baby Boy’s name done in paint brush strokes either across or down the back of my neck.


You already pretty much know my plan to lose the weight but here’s a recap with a bit more detail:

DIET: WEIGHT WATCHERS For those of you who aren’t aware of Weight Watchers…if you’ve seen the TV commercials with the fuzzy orange monster running around tempting women with food — that’s it. The basic premise of WW is that based on your height, weight, etc. you have a certain amount of “points” that you are allowed to consume daily, with an extra 35 points for the week for when you overindulge, etc.  And every morsel of food or beverage that you put in your mouth has a points value. So the premise is that you choose not just the right foods and beverages so that you stay within your points range, but that you choose the right AMOUNT of food and beverages also. Now, you can still have that piece of cake. You can still have that glass of wine. You just have to decide if it’s worth the points at that particular point in your day or week. So what WW does is train you to eat the right amount of the right foods and generally make the right choices.

LOVE it.

EXERCISE: A combination of Baby & Me Fitness classes (Stroller Fit (a la stroller), AquaFit (a la water), TurboFit  (aerobics & strenght training) and ‘Booty Hop’ (hip hop dance classes & strength training)) and Karate (I’m going to attempt to hit the Dojo at least twice a week, if not three times a week. But twice a week at minimum)

So there you have it! My buh-by-Buddha-belly-game plan. The plan may change a bit as time goes on (I may add on to my fitness regimen or my daily points range may decrease as my weight decreases) but nevertheless a plan will be in place to get me to my goal, get me my new tattoos and get me into my damn PUMA shirt!!! (not to mention all my other pre-pregnancy clothes that I’m too scared to pull out for fear of launching me into depression).

Wave that checkered flag cause this Buddha belly is rolling on people!!!


Ok, so first off my plan of attack didn’t go so well today. My original plan was to take baby boy and the pooch for a power walk in the morning, get some work at the computer done and out of the way and then go to karate later this evening.

Well kind of got sidetracked with cleaning the condo, making pediatrician appointments (baby boy has a bad cough and cold) and arguing with the husband about going to the dentist appointment I had made for him. I did manage to finish a few schedules and make a few phone calls in addition to the one to the pediatrician. (Which, by the way, is scheduled for Wednesday morning which totally sucks because that’s supposed to be my “Turbo Fit” aerobics class day. Argh. Ah well, baby boy’s health comes first) But the power walk kind of fell by the wayside. And when the thought finally crossed my mind later in the afternoon it had begun to rain. Oh well, I had good intentions right?  Does perspiring while cleaning your home count as a workout? I swear to God, I think that I’m the only person alive who actually perspires while she’s dusting and cleaning the bathroom. And I don’t mean a “whew! It’s a lil’ warm in here” kind of perspire. I mean a “Holy Crap can someone crank the air conditioning???” kind of perspire. I don’t know what it is…maybe I’m cleaning too quickly for my own good? Maybe I’m not cut out to clean my own home? Regardless, the embarrassment level has just jumped to a point 8 out of 10.

Back to my day. So this evening I did manage to drag my butt to karate. And, well, put it this way…I have no idea how I am going to pick up baby boy tomorrow let alone climb out of bed. I hurt that much. See, while I had figured that tonight would be a somewhat simple drills and katas kind of night at the Dojo. Ohhhhh no. Tonight was all about conditioning.

Great! Wonderful!

IF you’re actually in some sort of shape.

If you’re totally lacking muscle and stamina like I am, conditioning is a bloody nightmare.

Here’s just a taste of what I went through. At one point we did an exercise where you hold the ends of 7 pound dumbbells with the tips of your fingers. Now when I say the tips, I mean that the tips of your fingers cannot curl under the edge of the end of the dumbbell. You have to hold the dumbbell up with merely the tips of your fingers. Oh and that’s not all. You have to ever-so-excruciatingly-slowly take stances (or what would seem like baby steps to you I suppose) across the length of the entire Dojo holding the dumbbell’s in each hand that way. And do the length of the Dojo three times. And when you finished that, you had to do it all over again but with each step you had to LIFT the dumbbells straight up in front of you slowly and then lower.

Apparently this kind of conditioning was done way back in the day with a big ceramic jar filled with sand with the tips of your fingers holding it up by its lip. I truly don’t know what kind of jackass comes up with this crap. There’s some kind of Japanese name for this type of conditioning which totally escapes me at the moment but whatever the Japanese name is I’m sure it translates into “*&^%$#@! painful”.

So that was just the beginning. You can just imagine how the rest of the class went, which included suicide runs, performing 50 roundhouses on each leg, 50 front kicks on each leg, never-ending push ups and on and on and on.

Here’s the weird thing: At one point during the weight lifts Renshi asked me if I wanted a lesser weight. I’m positive that the look of anguish on my face probably gave him the hint that I was struggling. And I’m sure that Renshi meant well, but for some reason his comment really got me angry. My blood boiled, my face turned red, I stuck up my chin and I looked at him straight in the eye and said,

“If I start to cry, you can offer me a lesser weight. Until then I have to push it out”.

Even as the words left my lips I was, for a brief moment, shocked that they were my own. I completely surprised myself tonight. A mere few weeks ago I would have gladly accepted the lesser weights and most likely been crying in a corner at some point but here I was, sweating, grunting and muscles shaking unsteadily but CHALLENGING MYSELF. Daring myself to take it one step further. Telling myself that I can do this! I did it before and I can do it again!

And I did. I made it through the class alive. I was in pain and out of breath, but I was still in one piece and feeling unbelievably empowered…

…until I got in my car to go home.

Dudes, it hurt to DRIVE.

BUDDHA BELLY: 0          ABS: 2


STROLLER FIT (Stroll-er-ft) noun: a form of post-pregnancy exercise wherein the unsuspecting mother pushes her baby in a stroller at top speed along park paths and up/down a few steep hills and stairs for good measure and including the occasional bout of aerobics and strength training on the grass just in case the mother wasn’t exhausted enough.

STROLLER FIT THOUGHT OF THE DAY (while running uphill with the stroller for the third time): “Whoever designed jogging strollers obviously never pushed one up a hill…do they know how *&^%$#@! heavy this thing is???”

COOL STROLLER FIT THINGY OF THE DAY: keyboard player from the Barenaked Ladies strolled past my Stroller Fit group while we did push-ups off a park bench and our babies bawled on the sidelines. Ok, granted he’s not the most popular member of the band, but still — could he pick a more unflattering day to walk by me???

NOT-SO-COOL STROLLER FIT THINGY OF THE DAY: Almost ran over a Beau Mastiff as I was catching up with my group across the grass. ‘Ever see a motorcycle that has plowed into the back of a transport truck? Yah, that would have been me with my stroller.

BUDDHA BELLY: 0          ABS: 1


Had lunch with a bunch of my gal pals this afternoon at Jack Astors. I have 2 new favourite food items at that place. One is the artichoke, goat cheese and spinach dip with Tortilla chips — so delish that it’s well worth the 5 point value. The other is the “Chopstick Salad” — salad, red peppers, cranberries, spicy pecans, grilled chicken breast, won-tons and sesame dressing. Here’s the thing — you have to skip the won-tons because even without them this incredible salad is still a good 15 – 20 points (depending on whether you have the dressing on the side or not…I chose to let them dress it so it came out to be a whopping 20 points!!!) Very worth the points and extremely filling though. I’ll just have to remember to dress it myself next time. I was really tempted to have a coffee but wanted to save whatever points I had for a healthy dinner later on.

By the end of the day I wound up over my daily points range by 13…not good when I have a BBQ to go to on Sunday but it just means that I’ll have to be conscious from this point forward.

Oh, and while running errands tonight the husband, baby boy and I discovered a new Gelato Cafe that just opened up down the street from our place. As if I didn’t have to exercise willpower enough with the Starbucks down the street and around the corner, now THIS? Argh. I told the husband that he should post a notice behind the Gelato counter with a picture of my face and a caption that reads “Do Not Feed the Italian Gelato or anything else from this establishment“.

Tomorrow I don’t have a Baby and Me Fitness class (at least not until August when I start AquaFit anyhow) so my plan of attack is to go for a power stroll with baby boy and the pooch in the morning, catch up on some work in the afternoon and then go to my karate class later that evening.

If I can feel my legs that is.


So this week is what I like to call “prep week” for the official  “Kick My Ass Into Shape” regimen.

Seriously. I’ll take any shape but the one I’m in right now.

So far so good. I’ve dug out my Weight Watchers points books and have managed to stick to a fairly regulated diet of low fat foods. And I’m proud to say that I’ve only hit Starbucks once so far this week. You may scoff at the Starbucks comment but avoiding Starbucks is a bigger feat than it seems. For the last five months I’ve relied on a mid-afternoon Starbucks run to get me through the remainder of my day with the baby and errands, etc. The Barristas at the Starbucks down the street know me by name…and by order.

I’ve been away from Starbucks for more than three days…they’ve probably sent out a search party, deeply concerned that I might be lying in an alley somewhere with an empty Starbucks cup begging for change for my caffeine fix.

Oh, and just as an FYI, no I am not one of those Grande-no-whip-mocha-thingy-ma-bob-with-cinnamon-sprinkles people. I’m a Tall Bold with No-Fat Milk and 3 sugars (which I apply to the coffee myself, thank you very much!)

The gym situation has been a constant frustration for me these past few months. Mainly because it’s hard to find time to hit the gym during the day when you’re attending to a baby… and I’m just too damn tired by the time the husband gets home from work to drag my ass there later in the day.  So after much deliberation I’ve joined Baby & Me Fitness to jump start my rusty butt into high gear.  I say “after much deliberation” because at first glance I took Baby & Me to be nothing but an overpriced gym membership that charges you  up-the-whazoo just for the privilege of taking your baby to class with you.  But I’ve heard amazing things about Baby & Me from other new moms so I’m willing to try it.

Hell, I’d be willing to try riding a unicycle on a tightrope over a herd of hungry tigers if it meant that I’d shed some fatty tissue from my ass.

I’ve also re-registered for karate. For those of you who don’t know, prior to my getting knocked up I was a brown “advanced” belt training for my black belt after four long (yet incredibly motivating and power-inducing) years. It’s taken me five long months to get the courage to dive back in.  This fear is due to:

A) I’ve lost any and all muscle I once had and am left with overall mushy-ness

B) I’m fat. And embarressed about it. Never a good combo.

C) I’m waaaaaaay out of shape.

It took me a while but I finally decided that if I didn’t go back now I’m never going to go back. And what better way to kick my ass into shape again then to literally get my ass kicked, right? So I’ve re-registered, pulled my Gi out from storage and have wracked my brain trying to remember my katas so that I don’t walk into the dojo with an empty head as well as mushy muscles.
And so…we’re off!

Here’s to low fat foods, working out baby-style, getting my ass kicked and all the while hoping that all this hard work will result in getting me back into shape…

…any shape but ROUND.