#Chewsday Update – And Other Weird, Made-Up Words

What the heck is #Chewsday Black Dog? – you may be asking yourself.  Well, let me tell ya.  Whether you really want to know or not.  So there.

bbbbllllpppprrrrhhhhh!!!!!

bbbbllllpppprrrrhhhhh!!!!!

I’ve teamed up with my accountabilibuddies, (yup – somebody made that one up too) over at Princess Prairie Runners and Darlin’ Rae in an effort to keep each other on track with our eating.  We’ve been stalking each other on our blogs, Twitter, and Instagram, and just acting as a support system when the evil junk food minions come a-callin’.

Here.  Have a banana.

Here. Have a banana.

We’ve had a few bad days along the way, but for the most part I think we’ve been able to give our efforts three out of four paws up!  Just knowing I’ll feel guilty if I go for the inevitable extra serving of that blasted tortellini the hubby insists on making every blessed week, (if only it wasn’t so friggin’ yummylicious!), helps keep this dog’s waistline from getting too out of control.  Just think girls, if we keep at it, we’ll end up looking like THIS!

Ok, maybe not.

Ok, maybe not.

I can honestly say I haven’t stepped on a scale for who knows how long, and to be honest, I really don’t care what the number says anyway.  My clothes fit pretty well – aside from a pair or two of pants that I wish fit just a LITTLE bit loser – but I’m living on the pavement and in the gym these days, so I’m good with it.  And we all have races to train for, so none of us will be spending much time sitting around on our dupas stuffing our yaps with crappy food.  I think our unofficial mantra has become, “eat like crap, feel like crap, train like crap.”  Pretty awe-inspiring, ain’t it?

Google awe-inspiring.  This is what you get.

Google awe-inspiring. This is what you get.

We’d love to have you join us our party train to happy bellies and happy training, so feel free to stalk us on our blogs, Instagram, or Twitter, using the hashtag #Chewsday.  You too can be one of the cool kids!  Maybe we’ll even get shirts made up.

Awesome-sauce.

Awesome-sauce.

Enjoy the ride.

Do you make better choices when you know someone has your back?

Accountabilibuddies…And No, I Didn’t Just Make That One Up

Food challenges.  The story of my life.  Let me tell you, it can totally SUCK being, shall we say, “vertically challenged”?  What I wouldn’t give to have just a few more inches in the height department so these pounds I carry were just a smitch more spread out.  But thanks to genetics – aka short parents – there’s not a whole lot I can do about it.  Short of taking out a circus stilt walker and making a run for it.

Maybe not THIS particular stilt walker.

Maybe not THIS particular stilt walker.

Seeing as Mother Nature and I have to agree to disagree on the whole “wish I was taller” thing, I have to wave the white flag on it and move on.  To what I stuff down my yap.  Just like the lovelies at Prairie Princess Runners and Rae at Darlin’ Rae.  We’ve all come to the not-so-surprising conclusion that in order to fight our ever tightening waistbands, we need to be accountable to someone other than ourselves.  Now I’m pretty good at keeping my eating under control.  I don’t eat oversized portions and I don’t fill up on a lot of crap.  One or two mini peanut butter cups at the end of the day are just enough to satisfy my sweet cravings.  I may or may not sneak in one or two Kisses after lunch if they’re around, but I don’t HAVE to have them or face possible chocolate meltdown.

Must...have...chocolate...

Must…have…chocolate.

My culinary hangup? PASTA.  Any shape, any size, served with anything on it, over it, under it.  In a bowl, on a plate, off the ground, or out of the Wonder Mutt’s dog bowl – I DON’T CARE. Give it to me.  GIVE IT ALL TO ME.  NOW.

MINE! nomnomnom...

MINE! nomnomnom…

This pasta obsession of mine has to be brought under control.  I have no idea where it’s even coming from, except I’m starting to think there’s a hidden pasta gene in my makeup somewhere that someone has conveniently forgotten to inform me of.  I’m convinced more than ever I was adopted.  Probably from a family with a lot of i’s and o’s in their last name.

Since it’s always easier to drag someone else kicking and screaming on your trip to make-me-stop-eating-all-the-food-everywhere-land, (because why go it alone?), I’m stringing together some linguini and reigning in this insanity with Lisa and Rae; my…wait for it…….ACOUNTABILIBUDDIES!   Together we shall overcome!  What, I don’t really know.  But we’ll do it.  Together. One for all and all for noodles. Oh damn.

chewsday

Feel free to join us on our journey as we navigate canyons of cookies, sinkholes of sugar, and oodles of noodles.  Post your smart food choices on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook using #Chewsday.  Who knows?  Maybe you guys can be our mouth monitors and guilt us into not stuffing that insane serving spoon-sized pile of pasta down our yaps.  Or at least make us feel supremely guilty about it if we do.

Check out our progress at PrairiePrincessRunners.com, DarlinRae.com, and of course right here, at BlackDogRunsDisney.com.  Or hook up with us on Twitter at @PrincessRunners, @RaeisaDarlin or @Vixen1267.  I know, I know.  I haven’t figured out yet how to switch everything over to a blog-appropriate Twitter thingie yet.  I’m a numbnuts like that.

Enjoy the ride.

Do you find being accountable to someone else helps you meet your food/fitness goals!