Wellness Czar

I have been declared Wellness Champion at work.

I’m pretty important…

Ok.

It maybe wasn’t a declaration so much as an appointment.

And so far, I seem to be little more than a figurehead.

But it did lead to everyone at work wanting me on their fitness team.

So you could say I’m pretty popular.

Maybe even the most popular girl in school…

(This is not how high school felt my first time through.)

So these teams. There are five people per team. And we’re competing. To reach a certain number of steps per day. And I think maybe it’s supposed to be more of a hey let’s support one another in reaching the goal kind of thing. But I’m me. And maybe when I was crowned in front of staff I declared myself the healthiest person there.

And then proceeded to go home and have a bag of Doritos and some beer for dinner. While watching Patriot Act. And definitely not moving off of my couch for three hours.

I’m not. I’m definitely not the healthiest person there. I’m probably never the healthiest person in any environment I’m in. Ever.

And for reals? I haven’t run in weeks. Even prior to my porch injury, I’m not sure I’d actually run since Iron Mountain. At the end of August. And this fact was very clear to me as I barely managed two miles last night. And I even walked one of those miles.

I’ve got a 50k trail run next weekend. From Pilot Mountain to Hanging Rock.

31 miles.

3,400 feet of elevation gain.

My fitness habits tend to be pretty feast or famine.

But I can’t not win this challenge. That isn’t actually a challenge.

And I don’t have a fancy watch or step tracker.

So I have to carry my phone EVERYWHERE.

I don’t even really like my phone.

But I gotta take her even more places than I already do?

And apparently this bitch has established a “goal weight” for me? (Oh you best use finger quotes when you read that because I damn sure am never gonna weigh 123 lbs again.)

Seriously

First of all, I don’t even know if that current weight is even close, because I no longer step on things that try to put labels on me.

But also? 123? Who the hell is choosing these numbers? When did my phone turn into GJB?

And ok. 1,490 calories a day.

I do not track food.

I do not plan food.

As long as I have the coffee in my system and I’m staying somewhat hydrated throughout the day, I’m feeling pretty successful.

If someone puts food in front of me, I eat it. If someone tells me there is food at some place, I go to that place.

I don’t ask questions. I don’t assess any risks or dangers associated with it. I don’t quietly calculate calorie math in my head.

I do not see me tracking food and calories anymore than I see me ever reaching 123 lbs.

So all I’ve really got in this challenge is running.

So I have to start doing that again.

And my legs and back are still pretty pissed about the whole surprise leg day situation Wednesday. They would like to remind me that they require more preparation for these activities.

Psht.

Like I ever give them preparation.

But I’ve got to win this challenge. You don’t even understand. I cannot CANNOT let these people step more than me.

I’m the freakin Wellness Czar.

So if you need me, I’ll be wandering around campus staring at my phone. And not eating. Because I’m saving my 1,490 calories for beer and tacos tonight.

(That’s not true. I’m gonna eat. I’m definitely ALWAYS gonna eat.)

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