Run, Carlos, Run

Here's a guest blog post from Kristin Sheppard, author of MadBetty.com, a kickass blog about pop culture, Austin food and all sorts of other awesomeness. Check out the guest blog I wrote over there about Deadliest Catch, the TV show.

Carlos might just be onto something with this running goal. It's a great way to stay in shape, doesn't require a lot of expensive equipment or training and virtually anyone can do it. Even more important, running never goes out of style

From the early days of Madonna jogging in dark sunglasses and red lipstick to Bill Clinton and the Secret Service running around DC, icons from all walks of life lace up their sneakers and hit the road. They are just like us! Well, sort of...

One of my favorite celebrity runners is Will Ferrell. His Boston Marathon time of under four hours took everyone by surprise, but he had secretly been a serious runner for quite some time. I heard he used water to stay hydrated, because milk was a bad choice.

Reese Witherspoon is also an avid runner, logging in an hour every day. And Fergie was seen all over Hollywood running with her water belt, giant sunglasses and monster headphones. Those Black Eyed Peas are some serious dancers, so I imagine she has to work out pretty hard to keep her lady lumps in check.

Katie Holmes wasn't the fastest marathon runner, but she caused quite a sensation in NYC when she ran in 2007. At mile 23, she stopped to visit Tom Cruise and Suri. And whatever Scientologists were hanging out on the sidelines. How sweet.

The most notable celebrity runner is Eddie Izzard, who ran 43 marathons in 51 days. Only a comedian could do something that crazy with only five weeks of training. (!) He lost toenails, his blisters blistered, and he had to bathe in ice everyday. Renee Zellweger's fanatical running pales by comparison.

In addition to the runners themselves, it's important that Carlos choose a celebrity's running style to emulate. Should he wear red cutoffs like Miley Cyrus? Or just keep it low key like Edward Norton? Or should he embrace the spirit of Austin and start training in some bright orange gear.

Join me in following Carlos' journey in matching his personal best 5K time of 18:24. Let's continue to support his efforts and stalk his progress on this blog. We're rooting for you, Carlos!

Did that just happen?

There are two things in life that remind me of Ross Geller, the character from the TV show Friends: leather pants and spray tans. When I woke up this morning I could honestly say I'd never done either.

The leather pants thing will last until my dying day or until I join a boy band. The spray tan thing expired this evening, in preparation for tomorrow's photo shoot.

I can't believe I just wrote that last sentence.

Yup, as we speak, I'm waiting the 3 hours until the sticky, bronze stuff that covers my body is ready to be washed off. Mariah told me that the photo shoot lights blank you out if you don't have a tan. Kevan and PhotoShop tried to convince me today that I also needed to shave my legs and upper body. That was NOT going to happen.

I traipsed into the tanning place, located in the West Campus area of Austin near UT, feeling rather hesitant. The green and purple paint on the walls and the shelves full of tanning products whose packaging runs the spectrum from pink to yellow did not help.

Before I knew it, I was standing in all sorts of awkward positions, getting spray painted like an Escalade at West Coast Customs. Turn your leg out. Turn to the side with your arm up. Turn around. Lean forward so we can get the shoulders. Look up. Here comes the face, are you ready. 1, 2, 3.

It's not so much that a spray tan is hard to endure. It's pretty easy and the cool spray actually doesn't feel bad. It's the fact that you're GETTING A FREAKING SPRAY TAN.

The guys at work tomorrow are going to eat this up like the platter of donuts I've seen like a mirage around every corner the last few days.

Band of Brothers (and Sisters)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, (I've changed names to protect the innocent), finished her set of upright rows and grabbed a gulp out of her water bottle before starting her set of 7's bicep curls.

"You're going to run after that set," Kevan said, on his way back to our area of the gym after dispensing with torture to our brothers and sisters in arms on the other side.

"Oh, I already did," she said. "I ran extra last time."

"Oh, ok,", Kevan responded.

I burst out laughing. Kevan and Buffy quickly did the same. All three of us knew Buffy had done no such extra running.

She's been working out with the program for several weeks now. I would guess 5 or 6, and she makes the workouts fun. She gives 110 percent while expressing what you might call colorful language and hand gestures, usually aimed in Kevan's specific direction. I often have to stop whatever medieval activity I'm in the middle of because I'll lose my breath from laughing.

Buffy is just one of a host of characters that I have enjoyed working out with on Monday and Wednesday evenings over the last 3 months.

All have been super nice, friendly supportive and hard working. I think we feed off of each other's efforts and are inspired by their results. Although we're all are here for different goals, we share similiar journeys. There's definitely a shared sense of accomplishment, mutual admiration and inspiration. Workouts are peppered with high fives and encouraging words.

When passing each other on the runs that bookend our circuits, the grimaces of exertion on our faces are usually broken with a smile or quick nod as one is on the way out and the other heading back in (Except for Buffy, who will usually say something along the lines of "I f-bombing hate this") I truly enjoy the camaraderie.

Not long ago, Photoshop finished his 12 week program and did his "after" photo shoot. It was awesome to see such a nice guy who I've watched work ridiculously hard reach his goal. I call him PhotoShop because some friends of his on Facebook wall didn't believe the photos were unaltered.

I get a kick out of listening to him talk about his kids, especially the 18 year old son who he says likes to bust his balls. In case you're wondering, dude lost 50 pounds and turned into a total beefcake in 12 weeks. And he's come back for another 12 weeks.

I was intimidated when I started the program, but it quickly became one of the most welcoming of places. Kevan is no-nonsense when it comes to workouts, proper form and doing things right.

He used to belong to this little group known as the Marine Corps MMA fight team, but he's a super nice guy. He laughs every time I alter exercises to make them a little easier, quickly correcting me and bringing me to the edge of throwing up from the exertion. It's amazing how much of a difference a few adjustments make.

So close, yet so far away

So, technically, my 12 weeks are up. My starting weight was 223 and my weight on Sunday was 190.6.

But. I was sick in the middle and lost two weeks worth of burpees, dozens of varieties of pushups, wall balls, planks, and all sorts of other unGodly things. So now I get this week and next week to make up for that. Then I'll be in a freaking photo shoot.

Yes, before this all started, I committed to doing an after photo shoot as an added incentive. So I've got 3 more group workouts and about 5 to 7 workouts on my own to "pump my shit up", as Mariah put it.

I wouldn't call it a carrot on a stick, because who in their right mind would volunteer for potential public humiliation? I can see the guys at work licking their chops for more ammunition to bust my balls. But it is motivating and has snapped me out of my foggy cloud of half-assedness.

I had the best workout yet Monday evening. It was awesome. I did 12 burpees straight through without stopping. I did 12 unstable pushups on the Bosu Ball without stopping. Twice. I felt like the Karate Kid exacting revenge on the Kobra Kai. I almost pumped my fist Jersey Shore style, but managed to keep the celebration on the inside.

Normally I have to stop in the middle of a set, bent over with my hands pressed on my knees, struggling not to fall over. I'm sure someone casually walking by might think I'm struggling to stay upright after a gunshot wound. So it felt darn good to actually feel like I was approaching the point where I'm doing the workout as it was intended.

It was by no means an easy workout. Kevan likes to increase the intensity so we do a little more and more to achieve the same level of suck. Reminds me of an article I read once by a Tour de France cyclist on the nature of getting in better shape: You don't suffer less. You suffer faster.