The Mascot

The company I work for periodically has pep rallies to boost employee morale, and, since one is coming up in the next few days, my co-workers and I were chatting about what a strange ritual high school pep rallies are.  I always made a point to skip them in my day, generally opting for hookie joyrides with my buddies, but I did end up going to at least one.  The one I remember attending will be etched into my mind forever.

It was 1994, and the predominantly flannel-laden student body poured into the gymnasium for a special pep rally.  It was a tryout for the lucky kid who would don that year’s beloved mascot costume, the Wildcat.  The ten or so hopefuls had to dance and cheer, wearing their own makeshift interpretation of what they envisioned as the spirit of said mascot.  Most were just dorky or very gung ho guys clumsily jumping around and shouting cheers with a felt tails pinned to their jeans and whiskers drawn on their faces, but I remember the singular girl who tried out.  This was, hands down, one of my clearest high

school memories, besides the time my boyfriend drank an entire Clearly Canadian bottle full of vodka before Geometry class and puked on his semester exam, but I digress.  This 16 year old girl, whose name I will never forget—Ashley Jackson—slinked out, hands behind her back, in a black leather corset, garters, kitty cat ears, 2-inch long lashes, and patent leather stilettos.   The cheers from the crowd sort of faded into a moment of silence as we collectively drew her in with our eyes to make sense of what was going on.  The faculty stood in disbelief.  This young lady paused, haughtily eyeballed the crowd, took one hand out from behind her back, clawed at the air and hissed as if possessed by Julie Newmar.  The crowd silence continued as teenage boys struggled to find the presence of mind to scoop their jaws off the bleachers.  Then, the girl took her other hand out from behind her back to reveal a black leather bull whip, which she cracked mercilessly on hardwood gym floor.  The crowd erupted in applause as she proceeded to do backflips and a number of gymnastic feats to Salt N Pepa's "Push It", ultimately ending in the splits and a final whip crack.  Everyone in that room left a changed being, including myself.   I was maybe even a little jealous that I hadn’t thought of it, but I do so cherish this memory.

It has taken me 20 years to say it, but a belated congratulations to you, Ashley Jackson, the official Wildcat mascot of 1994 and forever reigning mascot of all of the sexually comfortable.  Wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I’m sure you know that you were, and probably still are, a woman ahead of your time.

HOW I DID IT!

Tips and Tricks I learned while losing 25 lbs in 2 months.  The right way.

This blog post isn't any fancy wording...I'm just spitting out my weight loss secrets in bullet points at 2am just to get it into a format that can hopefully help some people meet their goals.

• The biggest help was the app MyFitnessPal.com and gave myself a 1200 calorie goal.  If wanted to eat more calories, I had to earn it with exercise.  It taught me to look at food in a whole new light.
• I joined a gym, ran 5 times a week, usually 3.2 miles (with some walking in there), skated about 7 miles a couple of times a week.  It was hard at first, but I noticed it getting easier as the lbs started to come off, so that was incentive in itself.  I just said, "it'll just be easier next time" every time I hit the treadmill.
• I ran a 5k and constantly plan on training for 5k's with a target of under 30 minutes.
• I learned the value of a good playlist.  Never underestimate the power of Joy Division, Eagles of Death Metal and Front 242 in heavy rotation...but find what works for you.
• I learned to love the sweaty me.  Sweat is sexy.  And a good workout can feel almost as good as sex.
• I learned that you can't outrun your bad eating habits.  If you work out all the time, but just can't seem to lose any weight, it's all about your diet.
• I cut out all salt and alcohol completely for the last month.  Cut out many carbs.
• I learned to use spices creatively so I wouldn't miss the salt.
• I started drinking sparkling water with lots of fruit in it in social situations so I wouldn't miss the alcohol.
• I avoided alot of events that might set me up for failure - until I felt I had the will power to resist alcohol and bad foods on my own.
• I lived on avocados, fruit, smoked salmon, cherry tomatoes, steak with only Sriracha on it, salads with no dressing or just a bit of olive oil.  Not all fats are bad fats.
• Soups I made were low in calories, but I could put a ton of veggies into them, so they'd fill me up.
• I learned to have fun with my food.  Fresh veggies are beautiful and colorful and look great on a plate posted on Instagram.
• I posted pictures of my pretty and healthy meals to social media.  People love to look at food!
• I posted pic so my progress on facebook not only to keep me accountable, and to rely of my FB friends for encouragement during the rough times.  It's amazing what a little positivity will do--there's nothing wrong with receiving a bit of the ol' "atta girl" to keep you going!  Plus, I figured my posts might help someone else that needs motivation.
• My boyfriend dieted with me and helped motivate me.  It helps to have a partner in crime to share your experiences with.
• When i got a sweet tooth, I had a Pure Protein bar, chocolate deluxe flavor.  180 calories, but only 2g of sugar and a whopping 30g of protein.
• I used to make breakfast my biggest meal of the day since it was my favorite, but I decided to make that my "throw away" meal so I would just eat unflavored instant oatmeal packets with either mashed banana or a handful of raisins or currants in it.  I made it just something to get me through til lunch.
• I drank TONS of water.  I told myself I can have a coffee/tea/diet soda if I drink 8 glasses of water
• I drank better coffee.  I learned to drink coffee with only non dairy creamer powder in it, so the coffee flavor itself had to be good to be bearable.  If it was really bad coffee, though, I'd put a packet of splenda in it as well, but I tried to avoid the splendas if possible.
• I substituted Dr. Pepper 10 for my regular Dr. Peppers.
• I traded sweet tea for half sweet / half unsweet tea.  Restaurants will do that for you if you ask.
• I posted about my progress on Facebook so I felt I wasn't doing it for just me, but I was doing it for everyone who wanted to do it, but they just needed to see someone else do it first.  I was just hoping it would help someone else along the way.
• OH and did I mention SRIRACHA????  And SMOKED SALMON???  Those saved my life. 

I'm sure there's more, but that's all I could think of at the moment.

If I can do it, you can do it.  Keep me posted on your experiences.  I love that shit.

GOOD LUCK!

Trigger Mortis

I concocted another tasty, healthy recipe at around 500 calories the other day, no additional salt and posted photos of the end result on Facebook.  More than a few people inboxed me and commented that they wanted the recipe, so, without further ado, I have for you the recipe for my lastest invention!

Trigger's Spaghetti Squash Bolognese

Ingredients:

1 spaghetti squash

6 oz. 90% lean ground beef / 10% fat

1 C Bertolli - Olive Oil and Garlic Spaghetti Sauce

1 C chopped green bell pepper 

1 C chopped mushrooms 

1/2 med chopped red onion

2 T olive oil

1 t red curry powder

1/2 t cayenne pepper powder

2 minced garlic cloves

1/4 C low-fat mozzarella cheese

fresh parsley

Serves: 2 people, total calories per serving: 506

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. 
2. Cut the raw spaghetti squash in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds into the trash.  The skin is tough, so be prepared to put your back into it.  You can do it!
3. Mix curry, cayenne and one tablespoon of olive oil together in a small bowl. (You can omit or reduce the cayenne if you can't do spicy, but I prefer it super spicy!)
4. Use a basting brush to brush the mixture onto the surface of the squash meat
5. Lay squash face down on a foil-lined cookie sheet, pop into the oven and bake until the outer shell is soft to the touch, usually 22-30 minutes.  (You can tell by looking, too - the squash shell will start to sink in a bit when cooked the proper amount).  Remove when ready.
6. While you are waiting for your squash to cook, you can be working on your sauce.  Over med heat, heat the other tablespoon of olive oil in a large sauce pan, making sure to coat the bottom of the pan.
7. throw in the garlic, onions and bell pepper and stir constantly until a softer (about 6-7 min)
8. Add in ground beef if you desire and stir in until browned.
9. Add in mushrooms and continue to stir for another two minutes.
10. Add in spaghetti sauce (or plain tomato sauce with a bit of basil if you would like to go more natural, but I like the taste of Bertolli and it's easier).
11. *OPTIONAL* - if you like your sauce a little sweeter like I do, mixing in a 1/2 - 3/4 of a packet of Splenda is good to sweeten it up a bit.
12. Reduce heat and stir the sauce constantly to prevent a bubbly mess.  By the time your squash is done being baked in the oven, your sauce should be ready.  (20 minutes total on sauce simmering should be enough).  Remove from heat.
13. Remove squash from oven and let cool a bit, so it's easier to handle.
14. Flip squash halves over so the meaty, flat side is exposed and the skin side is down.
15. With a spoon, begin to scoop out/stir the squash meat, which should then start to separate into spaghetti-like strands.  I like to leave the squash inside the shell and use that shell as a built-in bowl, but you can scoop the spaghetti squash onto a plate instead and throw away the skin if you like.  Should make two plates minimum.
16. Top each plate/bowl of spaghetti squash with 1/2 cup of the sauce you just prepared.
17. Top with just a bit of low-fat mozzarella cheese and fresh parsley.
18. Serve and wait for everyone to bow to your feet and promise to be your personal slave for life, because they will!  Wait for it.....

Please feel free to post your comments, questions and/or experiences with this recipe.  I'm always looking for ways to step up my food game!

Trigger Mortis' Pickled Pecker Casserole

So in my never ending fitness quest, I am trying to stay away from salt, but eating food without salt is like derby without a pivot line start. (What? We still have a pivot line start? Why didn't someone tell me?) Ok, better analogy; eating food without the flavor of salt is like derby without Smarty Pants. Or Dumptruck.

So, in an attempt to recreate the flavor of Dumptruck, I give you...my Pickled Pecker Casserole;

• 2 boneless skinless chicken breasts (aka the pecker)
• 1/2 cup of low sodium dill pickle juice
• 1 tablespoon of olive oil
• 1 cup of parboiled rice
• 1 cup of water
• 3 large mushrooms, sliced
• 1 celery stalk, chopped 
• 1/2 cup of chopped purple onions (they don't have to be purple. I just like it.) 
• 1 shucked ear of corn
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder
• 1/2 tsp paprika
• 1/2 tsp black pepper
• 1/2 tsp chile powder

1) Take two boneless, skinless chicken breast, wrap them loosely in dental dam (saran wrap) and beat those peckers until they are only a half inch thick. Remove from wrap and cut each breast into two equal parts.

2) Pour pickle juice in a large bowl and add the chicken. Marinate for 30ish minutes. Or 15 minutes if you're impatient. Or 2 hours if you're a procrastinator like me.

3) Remove the kernels with a knife from the ear of corn and set the corn aside in a bowl.

4) Heat the olive oil in an oven safe pan. Once oil is hot, add rice. Brown the rice in the pan for a couple of minutes, stirring constantly.

5) Add the water, mushrooms, celery, onions, garlic, paprika and black pepper and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. (This will help decrease the amount of time you have to bake the casserole.)

6) Remove chicken from the marinade and lay it seductively across the top of the rice mixture. Pour in the left over pickle juice from the marinade bowl.

7) Sprinkle the corn, then the chile powder evenly across the chicken and rice

8) Cover the pan with an oven safe lid or aluminum foil and bake for 25 to 30 minutes.

And that, my friends, is how you pickle a pecker and put it in a casserole.
I think Dumptruck would be proud.

Trigger's Guiltless Breakfast Taco

The best thing about these tacos, besides the yumminess, is that they are salt and butter free, so you can happily swish your sassy butt around at practice, knowing you didn't add any cellulite to it this morning.

Ingredients:

-olive oil spray
-two large eggs (like the ones you imagine you have while you're jamming)
-1/2 cup of chopped frozen (for shame, I know) broccoli, thawed
-1/2 a diced roma tomato
-1 sliced green onion
-1/2 a jalapeno, diced
-a few sprouts of diced cilantro
-a flour tortilla

1) crack the two eggs into a cup or small bowl and beat them like a red headed step child for about 8 seconds and set aside. You can leave out the yolk if you prefer, but it will be less flavorful.
2) Spray a non-stick frying pan lightly with olive oil spray and begin heating up the pan
3) Over medium heat, toss everything but the eggs and tortilla into the frying pan.
4) Stir continually until the onions start to become clear.
5) Reduce heat to low, stir in the eggs and cook to desired level of doneness. I actually just remove my pan from the heat and let the residual heat cook the egg until no longer runny. I just don't like the smell of burning eggs and will go to great lengths to avoid that horrible stench from permeating my nostrils.
6) Heat the tortilla up - I just heat it up on both sides over the burner's open flame until warm. You can do it in the oven, but it comes out a little slimy that way--and no one likes a slimy tortilla.
7) Plate the tortilla and pour the eggy goodness over it.

*For maximum tastebud satisfaction (this recipe is salt and butter free, after all), the dish must be served with Trigger's Corny Guacamole. I like to eat it with healthy sides, such as sliced tomatoes and a half ear of corn with lime and chili powder on it.

Trigger's Reasons for Losing Weight

2012 has found me on a really productive weight loss path, but, about a month and a half ago, I injured my knee pretty bad and couldn't run, skate, etc. I still can't quite do any of that yet. Besides working on upper body and abs, the only thing keeping me from ballooning up like Violet Beauregard has been my diet, yet, even my diet seems to be an uphill battle at the moment. I find myself slipping into old eating habits. "Oh, one of these chocolates won't hurt me." "Oh, but it's just a little comfort food to sooth my injury!" "I DESERVE to eat this blob of hamburger helper!" But with 37 lbs already down, I am so close to my goal, I can taste it like 70% cacao dark chocolate chip pancakes. I have put on 3lbs, but I really can't afford to slide. So, without further ado, I have decided to list 10 reasons I am losing the weight.

1) So that I can beat heredity (fuck you, diabetes and heart disease)

2) So that I can look good in a bathing suit for my Thelma and Louise trip to Galveston with my best friend, Gigi Foulin'

3) the sex

4) So that I can have a happy 35th birthday - no Jack Daniels, pity party, angry girl episodes

5) So that I can be a triple threat on the derby track

6) the sex

7) So that I can be a better asset to my team (aww..that's as mushy as I get)

8) So that I can look good enough to dance burlesque, buy sparkly pasties, practice in my living room, but then say, "Nah...I'd rather be a drag king." I just want the option.

9) So that I can run a marathon. Wait, no a half marathon. Wait, ok at least a 5k.

10) So that I can look hot in my Hex Chromosome shorts.

11) So that, the instant the whistle blows and the bout starts, I can confidently say, "I've done everything I possibly can to prepare for this moment."

12) So that when the Apocalypse comes and we all start eyeballing each other to see who would be good eatin', they will look at me once, then pass me over saying, "Nah, she'd probably kick my ass, and I bet that meat is tough."

Food is my Monica Bellucci: On the Road to My Ideal Derby Weight

Monica Bellucci wearing caviar.

It's 4:27am and I am trolling the interwebs for pictures of food I cannot eat.  I literally just kissed an image of a succulent dark chocolate cake that was on my monitor.  This is a recipe for disaster and nothing good can come of it.  I imagine seedy politicians feel not unlike this just before succumbing to the advances of high dollar courtesans that look like Monica Bellucci.  My fatal weakness, my mistress--my Monica Bellucci--is food.

I am writing about this instead of raiding the refrigerator, in hopes that I can overcome the impending weakness in my knees, and the seductive whispers of the last slice of chocolate cheesecake my brother left in the refrigerator.  I feel, that, standing at the threshold of near cave-in, I need to explain how food was slowly destroying my life, so that I can remember WHY I am no longer going to give into the trollop that is food.  (*sidenote: they call 'em "tarts" for a reason.)

Let me start by saying that I am, even if I were at society's silly standards of ideal weight, a big girl.  At five foot, nine and a half, I am "supposed" to be a healthy 160 lbs. in the real world.  But, I had convinced myself that, in the derby world, I needed to be a little bigger than that, and I think I hid behind "the derby excuse" for WAY too long.  Instead of being just a little bigger than that, I had let my weight get way out of control,  eating fast food all hours of the day, and constantly repeating catch phrases like "blockers don't eat salad" and "it's all in the tits".  To be fair, in my particular case, I would have been telling the more accurate version of the truth if I had said "an impressive and shockingly unbelievable amount of it's in the tits", but I digress.

When I decided I had hit rock bottom just a few short months ago, I was eating so much that I would literally eat in my sleep.  I would have a plate of food in my lap right before I went to bed and would actually fall asleep mid-bite.  Not good.  I would wake up in the morning, groan with one eye open, brush the crumbs of the previous night's food indiscretions off of my sheets, and do the walk of shame, empty plate in hand, downstairs to the sink to wash my plate clean of the evidence.  But no matter how many times I washed my plate, I was ignoring the evidence that was being left on my body.  I was at my heaviest weight ever, tipping the scales at 230 lbs.  I had a great boyfriend and an awesome roller derby league, but had never been more unhappy with myself.

Eating Voodoo Donuts at Western Regionals

I am a five year veteran on the travel team of my roller derby league, and, at that point, was in serious danger of being cut from the team because of my sub-par level of physical fitness.  I could BARELY squeak by on our minimum travel team requirements (30 laps in 5 minutes) and I had zero endurance.  Sure, I got exercise from roller derby, but I was doing just enough to get by in practice--WHEN I showed up.  I couldn't keep up with the basic endurance drills anymore, and I would be so discourage at practice sometimes that I would actually talk myself out of going to practice so that I could spare myself the embarrassment of the newer skaters passing me up.  It wasn't really the way I looked that was bothering me so much as my diminishing level of skill and agility.  In retrospect, I can now admit I was committing a hell of a lot more penalties doing illegal shit on the track--reaching with my arms, elbowing, flailing, bullshit stuff--to get the hit, because, simply put, I just couldn't get there.  I relied more on kill shots than positional blocking, because I just couldn't move on my feet like I wanted.  I knew where I needed to be on the track, but my body would fail what do what my mind wanted me to do.  I would laugh it off, but it wasn't funny.  I could have (and probably did) seriously hurt someone or myself on the track as a result of my lack of body skill.  As the venerable Val Capone so succinctly puts it, "Being big girl rules.  Being unhealthy does not."

Me at my heaviest - 230? lbs.

To make matters worse, my malfunctioning body insecurities had even started to reflect in my relationship.  I was in a such a bad mental place that, when we would go out for a drink, I'd overdo it and would become "that angry drunk girl" that no partner ever wants to (or should have to) deal with.  My poor boyfriend.  He handled it like Gandhi through it all.  I am truly lucky to still have him after some of the self-loathing shenanigans I pulled.

In short, it was not fun, I was not fun, and I never want to go back to that unhappy place, which is why I will not eat that last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, no matter how sweet it might taste.  Those few seconds of bliss are not worth a possible lifetime of unhappiness.  It's all fun and games until someone  ends up sitting in their Camaro, shaking their head and blubbering "I'm a fucking idiot...I'm a fucking idiot, fucking idiot, fucking idiot", Phillip Seymour Hoffman-style.

While it's funny to think about that scene in Boogie Nights, the truth is, I WAS feeling like that and was beating myself up about it without doing (a) squat about it.  Finally, I had had enough.  I was through feeling like that, so I bit the bullet, threw out all of the shite food in the fridge, stopped drinking soda, cut back to four alcoholic drinks a week, started shopping at the farmer's market, got a gym membership (thanks, Ben Dejo), and started running a mile or more every other day.  The first time I got on the treadmill, it wasn't easy--I won't lie--it was discouraging as hell, but I had to start somewhere.  I was lucky to log a mile in 17 minutes, but I couldn't run yet.  My tits were too big and I would have given myself a concussion, even with the three bras I was wearing.  But fast forward just a few short months later, I am now running a mile at around 9 minutes and only getting better.  AND I now look forward to every derby practice and discovering what I can do on skates with my improving body.  At the risk of providing TMI, did I mention sex is better, too? If that's not enough motivation, I don't know what is.  What a difference almost 30 lbs. makes!

While I am definitely not yet at my final goal derby weight of 175lbs, I am only 28 lbs from it, only seven pounds away from my second goal of 195, and only three pounds away from my first weight goal of just under 200lbs..  There are four odd weight goals and personal rewards for me, but they work for my weirdo brain.  Who knew that eating right and running every other day would actually work?  Definitely not me.

I have to give my boyfriend a ton of props for getting me on the right track and being my dream personal trainer, but he refuses to take any credit for it.  He always says, "You're the one doing all the work."  What a guy, right?  I'm glad we got past that dark place in my life.  As I stated earlier, I never want to go back that unhappy, Hoffman-esque place I was at, and, with the right kind of self-discipline and support--which I feel I finally have--I never will.

Eat your heart out, Monica Bellucci.

This week's victory dance @ All-Con sci fi convention demo!  photo by Long Le