Saturday I headed out with my maid of honor and one of my bridesmaids to go to David’s Bridal. Considering I have about 3 months left, I should probably get on that whole “getting a dress” thing. I never thought I would be much of a white wedding dress person, but figured I might as try SOMETHING on, and if not, they had some really gorgeous looking bridesmaid dresses that came in every color under the sun.
We got there and looked around gawking for a bit since they had apparently forgotten our reservation to have someone help us (though that’s probably the only negative thing we experienced), but then she directed us to the 
right rack to look at and told me to pick at least 3 (I ended up with 5) to try on. Apparently wedding dresses are 2 sizes bigger, so I was looking in 12s, and the shoulders necessitated 14s in some cases. Glad I lost the hangup with what size things are – that could have really been a bummer to me back in the day. As long as I’m not venturing into plus sizes, everything is sunny with puffy clouds for me.
First, you have to put on what they CALL a bra, but it’s really more of a bustier – I badly want one now to wear every day all the time, because my stomach has never looked so smooth – I <3 anything that flattens out my jiggly bits on my tummy. Then, you have to put on the petticoat, which continues the smoothing to about the knees, and then is a bunch of foofy meshy underskirt that makes everything at the bottom poof out all nicely. Then, you get yer dress on top of all that, get it zipped/tied/whatever, and finally, you emerge and stand on a pedastal with a bunch of mirrors so you can see every angle.
I’m not going to lie. Every one of the dresses I tried on made me feel like a freaking princess. Sure, one showed too much sideboob and the strapless one made me feel a little ackward, but at no time did I feel like “ugh, this dress makes me look horrible, I can’t rock the white/ivory/cream”. It surprised me a lot. Sure, shedding a bunch of weight helped, but I still thought I’d get up there and look like a silly marshmallow. I also was totally against a veil, but once I put one on it was like I took another step into magical fairy land. I couldn’t stop the shit eating grin. Maybe this white wedding business isn’t just for the birds. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the one time in my life I rock something white and frilly and feel like a pretty pretty princess doing it.
I guess it goes back to my childhood. I loved playing dress up to elicit a response. I’d put on the loudest clothes I had and give my parents a rock concert/gymnastic show. I’d throw a refrigerator box on my head, cut out eyeholes, and rollerskate around my neighborhood and pretend I was a robot. Halloween was always a favorite holiday. I loved show costumes for dance or ice skating. There were different leotards for different moods in gymnastics. I would switch between hippie, goth, rocker, or whatever my mood was that day during high school (and the 40% discount working at Hot Topic made it all possible). I’d don the vinyl pants when I was feeling particularly saucy. I sort of lost the urge when I got heavy and got into my “elasticy-skirt and t-shirt/tank top” uniform mode, but different skirts were definitely reserved for different moods even if they were very similar.
Now, the “getting costumed” for the day urge is definitely back. I mean, most days it is simply a pair of pants and a shirt, but then there is pairing it with the right sweater/jacket, what shoes to wear, what jewelry to wear, and how 
Then, there’s the going out – it’s fun to have another side of the closet reserved for special occasions again. I used to joke that people knew I was dressed up by the fact that I was wearing earrings in all 3 of my holes in each ear and eye makeup. But that’s actually pretty much the truth. I didn’t have a set of going out clothes anymore because – well, what I wore daily sufficed, and I didn’t go out all that much. Now, we are not the socialites of the century, but I can usually find an occasion at least once a month to put on something special that’s a little too short/tight/saucy to wear to work and get all gussied up. And I’m remembering that I really enjoy it.
I’m sure it’s a mental thing, like when I put on my running skirt I feel faster, but I fully agree with the school of thought out there that your costume sets the mood. I know if I don’t feel like leaving the house but have plans, once I put on something fabulous, I’m usually ready to go. Conversely, if I leave the house in something I”m uncomfortable in or don’t like how it looks, I don’t usually have a great day. Any day I wear this shirt, it’s a fucked up day. If I wear anything with my 5 inch silver platform shoes, I feel like I’m on anyone’s level.
So coming back to the dresses – even though I didn’t see myself in a foofy white dress, maybe it’s not that far of a stretch. Maybe, just maybe, I can allow myself to be that pretty pretty princess for a day. Maybe it’s not any normal version of me, not the fierce girl sporting workout clothes, or the girl that normally shows up to work in slightly bohemian/funny t-shirts and a coordinating hoodie because it’s about -12 degrees with the AC on in my office, or the usually overdressed one in something short and/or revealing and black/plaid/sparkly/bright to go out on the town. Maybe I can add this one to my costume closet and rock it.
serve and a drizzle of caramel at the salad bar). I’m ok having stuff out occasionally but I need to put the stop to having pinches of chocolate chips/spoons of fudge/etc. Once I get through a few weeks, I’ll allow myself again if it works into my calories that day, but for now, I want to unlearn the habit.
little warmup! I do think the first order of running business is to work on improving my mile and 5k times. I think I can shatter both my records of 7:50/mile and 27:19/5k, and it’s perfect to do in the morning – it’s cool outside and it doesn’t take much time!
decided it was go big or go home, and I went for a jacknife dive (jump up, fold in half into a pike, and then enter the water straight up and down, head first). It wasn’t very good, but I also remembered I used to crank the board way back to 6 so it was tighter (and they had it locked on 1, which is suuuuuper springy), so it was a matter of getting used to the board.
-Run a 5k in under 25. Same principle. I think if I plan properly for it, run it like a race, and give it my all, I can do it.
re a race I’m jumpy and excitable and can barely get myself to calm down. That day, once we were in the car and finally through South Austin traffic, I got so relaxed and tired that I wasn’t even thinking about the race. I’m sure it helped that I only managed 5 hours of sleep Thursday night, but finally being on the way and the road vibrations were just lulling me to sleep. I resisted a nap, but I kept that serene calmness through the rest of the evening.
even want to get up and take a shower like I had planned, so I just relaxed and drifted off to bed around 10:30. I found myself getting a *little* antsy when I started to try and close my eyes, but I just went ahead and went over my morning routine a few times and it was tedious enough to get me to dreamyland.
(yes, 15 minutes to gun time). The shuttle dropped us off at around 7:50-something, and then we found out it was about a half mile walk to the actual race. I started hearing “last call to get your numbers” so I left Zliten with the stuff and sprinted my ass off across the field and got my number and my chip, and was applying it while the first wave of relay racers crossed the starting line. Since the start was staggered, I went ahead and got rid of some excess water in toilets that didn’t have doors (eww) and when I got out, I saw the second wave go. I got up to the starting line as they were taking everything down and I frantically waved and pointed at my tag and they sorta rolled their eyes and said, go ahead. I was the last person across the line. The chip time probably included about 30 seconds to 2 minutes of standing on the mat haggling with the officials. Worst race start ever.
boost. At the end of the second lap, I realized something was a little off – my feet were hurting. Not my toe, but my feet. I realized then how uneven the pavement was on some parts of the trail, and my tootsies were more used to sidewalk or level streets. After a while it just started to become a constant ache which I was able to get used to, so it wasn’t too horrible.
must have looked so out of it, one of the officials cheered me on, telling me I had about one mile to go. That was the longest fucking mile ever. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I rounded the last corner and got a little pep back from a cheer from the relay runner, and headed for the finish. I didn’t feel like I had anything left to give but when I saw the finish line, I started sprinting anyway. In my head, instead of “dig, dig, dig, dig” which I’ve chanted to get me to the end of long runs, I was chanting something like “sit, sit, sit, sit”.
I just couldn’t. I was hobbling. Once we got on the shuttle, I exclaimed that sitting was the best thing ever. I didn’t even notice the AC until Zliten told me that was the best thing ever for him.
Tuesday: 30 minute tempo run
Week 13 – the week after!
I'm a video game producer and a lover of anything game related by trade. I'm a triathlete by hobby. I live for being on or in the water as much as I can - scuba diving, snorkeling, paddleboarding, water slides... you name it. The dichotomy between my outdoor and indoor realities are interesting, but they're all mine! Longer version