One Week of Working Out Followed by Some Weekend Sabotage


Last week I worked out with Loren Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Loren is this mass of energy with a booming voice and the unique ability to get me through a circuit with tons of sweat and no tears.

Monday was the first workout and although I’d thought of myself as being pretty active I was winded and even queasy at some points. Loren was patient. I was embarrassed.

Then he told me about some of his other clients, two were more than 350 pounds when they started with him. I stopped feeling embarrassed. It doesn’t matter if you’re losing 15 pounds or 150 you’re going to look a little funky at the gym. Oh just disregard that. It totally matters if you’re looking to lose 15 or 150. 15 is a cakewalk compared to 150. I should just quit my whining.

Wednesday I was much better about drinking more water before I came in. I felt a tiny bit sore but strong. I worked my butt off and began peppering Loren with questions about his personal life. Oh you have a dog? AND a cat and she bites you when you cheer for the Lakers? We’ll have to fix that. Your wife has a really interesting job.

Basically I walk into the gym and I’m like, Loren, entertain me! Tell me about your dog and your cat and your wife so that I don’t really feel these horrible core exercises and why can’t I touch my toes I do yoga all the time? And it really is just one sentence.

I make it a rule to not be in heels all day long and Loren asked me about flip flops. Uhhh… guilty. He explained that flip flops actually shorten the hamstring and calves and gave me two great stretches to do when I’ve been wearing flip flops. Obviously I’m pitching the flops for flats this summer.

Friday was also a great day at the gym and I actually felt like I knew what I was doing again. It was the right amount of soreness and my belly was feeling less like a belly and more like a core. I was all I am gym woman hear me roar… and then it fell apart.

I left the gym Friday morning and met Logan to pick up some DVDs he made for the kids at school. We met at Aroma café where I could have skipped eating but instead ate a massive breakfast burrito AND potatoes. I ran home… okay drove, and cleaned up for lunch with Gib. Again, I wasn’t all that hungry and a salad would’ve been fine but I ended up getting a cheese plate at Delphine and wiping said plate clean. From there Gib and I went to Beard Papa at Hollywood and Highland to pick up cream puffs for my kids and his family.

I need you to know that I did NOT eat a cream puff. This is my only victory.

Friday night we went to see The Hunger Games because Mr. G’s boss said that everyone in the department should see it. Although I enjoyed it immensely it’s not great filmmaking. It’s like Aldous Huxley for Dummies. In any event after a week of three training sessions and a two and a half hour tennis match on Thursday (yes I did win, thank you for asking) I went and sabotaged myself with a weekend of gluttony.

Saturday morning was fine, but nothing to be proud of and Saturday night was just an embarrassment. We went to Morton’s with the Tarquinios and relished in being the young’uns in the restaurant. Four of us made our way through 50 ounces of beef, creamed corn, potatoes au gratin, asparagus and three types of dessert. We ate the breadsticks, ordered cocktails and still polished off a bottle of wine.

I woke up Sunday feeling a little bloated and headachy. Fortunately for me sports kept getting canceled and didn’t leave my bedroom until about 10.30. When I did leave it was to eat. Of course. I met some of the ladies of LA tech for tea Sunday afternoon and Serena and I polished off a giant tray of high tea sandwiches and desserts. Serena will stay skinny.

Of course I went home for an hour and then to dinner at another friend’s house where desert was red velvet cake.

This week I’m quitting sugar.

I should be ashamed but I swear to all that is holy, I loved every bite.

School. Must. Start. Soon.


Enough with this family time. We’ve had two weeks of no school, no camp, no alarm clocks and no schedule whatsoever. Jane, Alexander, I love you, but it’s time for you to go to school.

It’s not what you’d expect either. I’m not feeling suffocated. I’m not craving adult company. The house isn’t a mess and I don’t care that I can’t listen to Howard 100 when you’re in the car. I adore your company.

Kids, when you’re home I get fat.

This is unacceptable.
You see, kids, Mommy pretends like she’s not shallow and that it’s what on the inside that matters. I think we all know better. Mommy likes to work out. A lot. It’s not because Mommy loves the endolphin rush, it’s because Mommy likes to eat. Mommy loves brie and white truffle olive oil. Mommy loves ice cream and not that fakey fro-yo that people try to pass off as a good substitute. Mommy also knows that ice cream tastes best in your nightgown whilst watching TV. Mommy takes food seriously, and Mommy can fry a chicken that will make you propose (it
totally worked on Daddy). But kids, we have problems.

When you’re home from school and camp and whatnot Mommy cooks and eats with you and then I sit and watch you play. I light up watching you play tag or basketball. My heart soars when you make forts in the backyard. Sadly, during these blissful moments I’m still, so sedentary that sometimes I doze off in the August heat. The naps are glorious, don’t get me wrong. To be perfectly honest, there’s just too much Mommy
to love right now. So, it’s time for everyone to get on a schedule.

It’s time for you to get back to school and for mommy to waddle get back to the gym. Your summertime jaunts for ice cream and the four PM cocktail hour have turned me into an apple.

It’s not that I don’t adore the family time. Really kids, but you’re getting the boot before I need boot camp.