I dumped Scott for Cody.

I know many of you have been reading my blog for years now.

You’re probably not shocked at the title “I dumped Scott for Cody” because you know I’m scheming you with my words.

You are correct. The title is not what it appears.

Cody is a girl.

I dumped Scott for Cody. The statement is still true.

No, I’m not a lesbian. 

I dumped my old workout partner – Scott – for a new workout partner – Cody.

I do not sugar coat blog posts. We’re all friends here and by friends, I mean real friends. Not some Facebook friend that has OMG. Best. Husband. Ever. Or an Instagram friend with smiling kids at the park, because it’s a good day with good friends! Friends also don’t let friends post videos of feet climbing a stair stepper. We get it. You’re working out.

I mean, it’s totally cool if you scrapbook your life on social media. You’re proud. We all are.

But I don’t scrapbook.

I’m a storyteller. If my husband gives me a present for no reason – he did something awful and he feels guilty. If I go to the park with my kids and friends – you won’t know about it unless something monumental happened, like the time 4-year-old Emma dropped her pants, squatted, and peed in the splash park. And as far as working out – again, you won’t know about it unless I dump Scott for Cody.

Fitness is not new to me. I’ve had a gym card since college and I use it a lot. I’ve worked out with Scott at a gym for the past 15 years. I’ve trained like an elk hunter. I’ve trained for a 5K with my friend, Heather. My new neighbors dragged me to a mud race.

I’m not athletic. I never played sports. I guess the only reason I’ve worked out for so many years is habit. And I train my body to handle something specific – reeling in a marlin, skiing in the mountains, running a 5K or a mud race. As Scott’s wife, my lifestyle is an active one.

Cody is drowning me facedown in my own puddle of boob sweat at Fusion.


There are three locations in the area but one concept – you sign up for a class at any of the locations. You show up, take the hour-long class taught by an instructor, and you leave. It’s not an open gym; it’s classes only. And if you miss the class you signed up for, you’re charged. This forces you to not be a quitter. This is good for me because I have no problem quitting free of charge.

And now I can’t quit. I’m a hostage.

That came out wrong. Let me try that again – I dread walking into the building.

Fusion’s tagline is “shock your body.” It’s printed on the door and it makes me feel like I’m going to get electrocuted if I touch the door handle. But that’s ridiculous. Electrocution.

They shock your body during class instead.

Things I’ve learned the past few weeks at Fusion:

  1. I’m the stumbling baby giraffe everyone watched on the Internet and I swear everyone is watching me. Not only am I tall and lanky but I can’t tell my left side from my right side. The mirror confuses me. Cody reminded me that everyone is lost when they first start Fusion. She gave me helpful words of encouragement like “find a spot so you can shadow the instructor” and “your days of not washing your hair are gone” and “don’t bring a tiny washcloth as your sweat rag. You might need a beach towel at first.”
  2. Barre is not pronounced “bear” as in “the bear is trying to kill me.” It’s pronounced “bar” as in “the workout is on the ballerina bar” or “I swear to God, if I make it out alive, I’m going straight to the bar after this.” Ballerinas make me cry.
  3. Cardio Sweat Lab should be called Class Swamp Ass. I asked Google if excessive sweating is a health condition. Google said I might die. I apply deodorant on my crotch now. I say this like I’m joking but, in fact, I am not.
  4. Bikini Boot Camp is not taught in bikinis. So don’t ask, guys. Bikini Boot Camp refers to kicks, jabs, jumps, and uppercuts for the next time you ask if this class is taught in bikinis.
  5. I don’t understand why we have eyebrows anymore. The sweat, you guys. The sweat. Isn’t the point of eyebrows to stop sweat from dripping and burning saltwater into your eyes? I peel off my workout clothes when I get home because they’re stuck to my skin. And then I go straight to the shower because Cody brought me to a new level of boob sweat Scott has never given me. I’m still not a lesbian.
  6. The burpees at Fusion make me see the Devil himself. Did you know burpees are a workout developed by Satan? It’s true. I saw him. Here’s what you do: Stand, drop to a squat, jump your feet back to a plank position, jump your feet to a squat again, and jump up to a standing position. Repeat. The stars come out and meet my friend, Lucifer.
  7. Everyone at Fusion has favorite instructors. I haven’t found my favorites. Each one has a special way of making me wring my sweaty hair all over my mat at the end of class. I’ve determined Satan must be a woman with a rocking six-pack body.
  8. No one will call you out if you show up with your workout pants inside out. I had two choices once I realized what my dumbass did: 1. Grab the instructor’s microphone and announce that I know my pants are inside out, please don’t judge me. Or 2. Text Cody what I did and tell her I must walk out of the building backwards, reading “Shock your body” as the door closes in front of me. I went with option 2.

I don’t sugar coat my blog posts. Fusion takes me through a workout I’ve never experienced before. When I’m done with a class, I get in the car and sign up for another one.

Because I dumped Scott for Cody.



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And don’t forget to buy my book, “But Did You Die?”

My fitness routine.

Fitness is a huge part of my life. I’m probably reading your comments from my phone at the gym.

It has been suggested that I start a fitness blog. Let’s start with this post first.

My fitness routine.

I will state the obvious – I am not a doctor. Or a nurse. I am not a dietician. Or a fitness trainer. I have no business writing about this because I am not an expert. I’m not that smart. Continue on, if you so choose…

I have a membership to a gym. I have tried working out at home with my own weights, running/walking, or DVDs. It doesn’t work for me. My house whispers the sweet words of DVR, merlot, freezing rain and sweatpants. It takes a very disciplined person to keep a long-term workout plan at home.


Scott is my workout partner. Workout partners will make you show up when don’t feel like going to the gym. I will be honest – working out with your spouse is hard to do. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten so pissed off at him for telling me breathe – I am breathing Scott. Do I look dead to you? – then storm out just to stand by the locked car because damnit, Scott has the keys. I hope you love your spouse very much if you choose him/her as a workout partner.

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I lift weights. Running, walking, cycling, swimming, yoga, and oh my gosh – zumba. Oh zumba. My hips do lie, Shakira. No. I don’t do any of that. My love is weight training. I am going to assume people want to know how to lose weight. Try lifting. Build muscle. I burn calories at an accelerated rate while I’m at rest – up to 38 hours after lifting. It’s true. Google it. The only way you can be lazy and burn calories is by building muscle mass. Cardio and interval training do not even compare. Sure, you will burn calories as you run past my house in the mornings. But I am burning more as I pull the blankets off Scott in bed. I spent a summer running plus weight training to prepare for my first 5K. I had a hard time keeping my weight up. Clothes were falling off me. If you want to lose weight this would probably be the way to go. Do cardio and weight training.

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I am at the gym a minimum of 5 times a week. This is key. I am 32 and have two kids. My body looks better now than it did before kids. For me, setting a goal does not work. Once I hit a goal I quit because yay! I did it! Don’t do that. Throw away the scale. Keep going. And don’t use the excuse “I don’t have time.” It’s like a puzzle. Find the time.

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I am the worst eater. I am squirming in my chair because this is the uncomfortable part. I can hear Scott’s voice in my head – “go ahead and tell them about the crap you eat.” I eat pizza at least twice a week. I eat ice cream every night in bed. The Taco Bell guy knows my name. I eat bread, pasta, and my kids leftover chicken nuggets. I eat it all. I snack on protein shakes during the day (my new favorite is Nectar’s Wild Grape). The only thing I do not eat is red meat. I don’t like the taste. Oh, and we don’t drink a lot of pop. We prefer chocolate milk. I don’t know what else to say. I’m sure my height helps a lot.

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I am happy with my body. I wish everyone would say that about themselves.

I believe the secret to staying fit is finding something you love. And do it for life. It’s a lifestyle, not a goal.

If you like running then run, Forrest, RUN!

If you like zumba classes then show Shakira up.

Go find yourself with yoga. What’s that word again? Peace be with you. No. Amen. No. Heal the world make it a better place. No, wait that’s MJ. Namaste. That’s it.

Or try my love, weight training.

Then let’s arm wrestle. We can go to Taco Bell later.


What is your favorite fitness activity? Are you a crazy runner? Do you have any protein shake recipes I need to try? Would you like to see more fitness posts? Scott was totally embarrassed taking these pictures. I’ll make him do it again if you want.

The Color Run.

I can’t move out of bed because of my legs.

Oh wait. I should whisper this.

I can’t move out of bed because of my legs.

I had to whisper because I am forbidden to talk about my legs throbbing in pain with Scott in the room. He is still recovering from knee surgery. Knee surgery pain trumps all-over-can’t-move-both-legs pain. Hi Scott.

You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you what happened.

I ran.

And now I’m fairly certain my neighbor is plotting my death. In Lawrence, Kansas. Home of the Jayhawks. This is a friendly reminder that I am a K-State Wildcats fan.

Two weekends ago, Heather and I were a good couple glasses of wine into the warm summer night.

Heather: Ok. So I have a question for you. Ok, before you say anything – I know you don’t run. But…

Me: Oh no.

Heather: Would you be interested in doing The Color Run if I got a group together? It’s in Lawrence in September. It would be really fun if you went with us!

Me: Yeah, I’ll do it! Those things look fun! But I am not a runner. You guys won’t sprint off will you?

Heather: No, we won’t sprint. We’ll take it slow.

Me: Ok. IN.

That was the wine speaking.

The next morning, I looked over The Color Run‘s website while sipping my coffee.

Hmmm. This does kinda look fun. Maybe I should wear a piece of flare, like a rainbow tutu or a bandana armband. I wonder if I can avoid all colors and just get purple sprayed at me. I should make faces at the cameras and point. 

Scott hobbled into the room.

Scott: What are you doing?

Me: Looking at The Color Run’s website. I’m going with Heather.

Scott: You’re going to run a 5K?

Me: Yeah. I feel like I can do this.

Scott: You realize that you will have to actually train for this. Like get on a treadmill or run outside.

Me: I’ll be fine. They’ll go slow. Maybe we can all walk.

Scott: I’m telling you now – they won’t be walking the whole time. It’s three miles. That’s a long walk. You’re going to get smoked.

Me: It’s three miles. It’s not like a marathon.

Scott: Smoked.

A week passed. I continued to lift weights at the gym. Scott reminded me to do cardio. I didn’t listen.

Another week passed. I got a cold. No gym. Scott reminded me while I was on the mend to run outside. I didn’t listen.

Two nights ago, I listened. I went for a run. Oh wait. I went for “a run“. Quote. Unquote.

I decided to take our dog, Bailey, because she could use the exercise. I also wanted to compare myself running with a 63-year-old dog, in dog years.

I busted in the door with Bailey and fell to the floor. Scott laughed.

Scott: Where did you go?

Me: Stop sign and back. Mile and a half.  Ok, fine – until I saw the stop sign then I turned. Close enough.

Scott: Bailey is not even panting. Did you even run?

Me: Yes, I ran! I panted for her. I’ve never sweat so much in my life. You runners. Seriously. How do your sides not hurt? It’s like someone turned the oxygen off outside.

Scott: I told you. You need to train. Did you run the whole time?

Me: Well, no. Not the whole time. Bailey had to pee a couple times. We stopped, lingered. She pooped. We stopped, lingered. I did run when I heard a car coming though. My legs hurt so bad. I worked out my legs at the gym too.

Scott: You’re using muscles you don’t normally use when you run. And you shouldn’t stop. You should have walked or jogged in place while she peed.

Me: OH! And my freaking cheeks jiggled! Like my face and my butt. I don’t like that feeling at all.

Scott: It’s called running. No one cares what you look like. It’s not a photo shoot.

Me: Oh.

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So this will be my world for the next seven weeks. Heather offered to train with me in the evenings. I think she realized I am in desperate need of help when I texted her my pitstop pictures. As of today, I am officially signed up with The Color Run. There’s no going back. Heather knows where I live and she will drag my sore, lifeless legs to Lawrence if she has to.

I mean, there’s really no other way I go to Lawrence.

Repost: Running.

I can’t think of a better time to repost my feelings about running.

Scott has plans to run the Rugged Maniac this weekend with some friends. Facebook makes it very clear that running a 5k or 10k is the hip thing to do. My neighborhood is filled with runners every night. I am sure there are runners in the morning but I have a sleeping-in-until-the-last-possible-second problem to even notice. A few friends of mine ran the Kansas City Marathon this past weekend. Shut. Up. 26 miles of running with no music? 26 MILES. Say whaaa?! 

You guys are all crazy. All of you.

I wrote this a couple years ago. My feelings have not changed:

Scott wants to run the 5k in KC next month. Scott doesn’t normally do much cardio. I’m actually shocked he told me he’s going to do it. He sticks to lifting free weights.

Then Scott asked me if I would do it with him. And asked me again tonight.


N-freakin-O. I hate running, no, no – LOATHE running. I don’t even know how long a 5k is. It sounds awful. My best mile in high school P.E. – 12 minutes. And that was trying really hard. I generally came dragging in dead last.


I know I should do it more often. It’s free. It’s a good way to exercise your heart. I’m all for getting a good sweat while in a spinning class. I enjoy swimming laps. But running? Ugh. There’s just something about it that makes me want to quit immediately. I just get so bored. The whining starts in my head:

My side is cramping…My lungs hurt…Why are my lungs burning? I’m not a smoker…Screw it, I’m walking…My iPod ear piece keep falling out of my tiny kid ears…I’m done…Here. Here’s, a check for your 5k charity…Take my money and YOU run…I’d rather be under a bench press.

Yeah, I’ll do like 10 or 15 minutes tops on an elliptical machine or bike at the gym. But then I’m off to the free weights with the grunting men for an hour. Or a weight lifting/toning class.

I like the feeling of shaky jello limbs when I’m done. I like the achy burn the next day. I love protein shakes. I even secretly love working my legs so hard that I have to let myself sit…sit…sit….FALL on the toilet seat instead of squatting down normally – you men have it so easy. If I don’t have some kind of  pain somewhere, I get antsy to get back into the gym. I take pictures every so often to compare my muscles. Much to the embarrassment of Scott, I am constantly flexing in front of the gym mirrors in between sets. I’m the only one that does this in public. I just like seeing results.

I would rather work hard lifting weights than feeling like a hamster on a treadmill. I would rather train for a bikini fitness show than run a 5k. I would rather do 1,000 situps than run once around my block. Are you getting my seriousness on this running issue? For me, it sucks. I think everyone should find something they love for exercise – whether it be weights, walking, swimming, biking, or join the other crazies running. You need to love it so you won’t stop. I know a lot of you that read my blog love to run. Don’t worry – I think you’re just a tiny bit crazy. I understand the addiction that you runners seem to have – I just have it towards weight lifting.

So Scott keeps bugging me to join him. He said he would take it easy for this 5k. His easy is my “passing-out”. I know very well that Scott is an overall great athlete. He would smoke me out of the water. If he wants to be easy on me, he better have intentions of walking the majority of the way.

I will be joining Scott at the Rugged Maniac. I found a glorious thing called a spectator pass. Sign me up. I’ll cheer you guys on from the sidelines while attempting pull ups on a tree limb.