Sleep like a Rock Star


Posted by Amy | Posted in Uncategorized | Posted on 02-12-2015

Why do people think sleeping like a baby is a good thing? Babies wake up all the time. They scream, they wear diapers. When I want to be out cold, I want to be sleeping like a rock star. Think about it, they’re out there, rocking out, then then crash, just to wake up and do it all again.

This is my method for deep deep sleep, it’s really like “liquid sleep” or “sleep in a bottle”. Vetiver, lavender and cedarwood essential oils do the trick for kicking out swirling thoughts. Just a few drops of each on your feet and cover with warm socks. No one can sleep with cold feet. Then to amp it up, pop your ear buds in with a guided sleep meditation (I like Buddhify), and loosely, and I do mean loosely cover your head and ears with a fuzzy blanket. Kind of make a turban out of it so you can breathe and stuff, because you know, suffocation ain’t fun.


pop me an email if you want to know where I get my essential oils from!

For god sakes, just call me fat


Posted by Amy | Posted in Uncategorized | Posted on 15-11-2013

You know, if you feel you must insult me because of my weight, have the freaking balls to use the F-word. Thinly veiled references to being over weight are totally lame. And it is totally lame that you would assume you are better than I am based on your dress size.

And it’s totally lame that you think “FAT” is an insult. I RUN A WEBSITE CALLED FAT GIRLS CAN RUN FOR GOD SAKES! Do you really think that bothers me?


Get Well Cathi


Posted by Amy | Posted in Looking Good | Posted on 07-10-2013

So I had an interesting experience not too long ago. I was on the phone with a business associate solving a problem in my company. We wrapped up the call and were about to sign off when she said… “Not that everything is handled, I just have to tell you something. I’ve been waiting and waiting to tell you, I’ve been a fan of your blog for years.”

I can’t tell you how much that touches me. I mean really it means a lot that someone whom I respect is a fan. Like I had tears in my eyes.

Now Cathi is dealing with a major health issue. I thought I’d send a little shoutout…

2013-10-07 16.03.45

To the market. Finally


Posted by Amy | Posted in Uncategorized | Posted on 28-08-2013

So I’ve been struggling with food for quite some time and have been awfully silent here. See, I’ve gained weight. More than I’d like, in the realm of “OMG my fat jeans are now my skinny jeans”. And I’ve been hiding out because of it, but that’s another post, alas…

See, I started my own company about a year and a half ago, and it is going swimmingly. The down side is, I work from home and I spend all my time at my desk. When you don’t have a commute, you kind of get lazy and I’m finding it increasingly difficult to do extraordinarily complicated things like GO TO THE DAMN SUPERMARKET.

When you don’t go to the supermarket regularly, lunch becomes cashews and a banana with a side of crackers. Seriously. I ate that three times this week.

I’m just not hungry and just not interested in food right now so I eat whatever is there.

Today – TRIUMPH!

I got to the market and actually bought real food.

The supermarket

Larabar loves me


Posted by Amy | Posted in Food | Posted on 23-05-2013

Tags: ,

I don’t know what I did to deserve such love.

@fatgirlscanrun gets a package from Larabar - yum

Every now and again, a little package of love shows up from Larabar. This one is full of their new ALT Bars.

Alt bars from Larabar @fatgirlscanrun

They’re made from Pea Protein. The debate about soy still rages on so it’s nice there are protein alternatives now. And of course, it’s Larabar so there’s no funky ingredients. Just dates, nuts, pea protein, natural flavors, you know the drill.

Yeah, yeah, I know, you want to know if they’re delicious? I had the Apple Cinnamon crisp for breakfast. Yup, tastes like apple crisp (with out the ice cream). The texture is a bit dry and crumbly when compared to the traditional Larabar. Not in an unpleasant way, but just different. You don’t get that chewy stick-to-your-teeth feel.






Rid your mind of can’t???


Posted by Amy | Posted in Mind Games | Posted on 11-02-2013

So I came across this “inspirational pin” on Pinterest. Sexy guy, with sexy abs, with sexy text saying “Rid your mind of can’t”.

FatGirlsCanRun calls bull on Pinspiration

I’m calling bullshit. You can’t rid you’re mind of can’t. That crazy inner fat girl is always gonna be there. Always gonna be whisper “you can’t do this” in you’re ear. It’s not about ridding my mind of can’t. It’s kind of a human response when faced with a difficult challenge. “Inspirational” posts like this just sets up a really dangerous senerio.

Ok, so let’s say I’m out on a run that I just “can’t” get through. Maybe this will pop in my head “Rid your mind of can’t”. You know what, maybe I can’t. Maybe I can’t finish this run. Oh great so I screwed up at “ridding my mind”. Great I can’t even do that so how the heck am I supposed to get over this little challenge.

The trick is, not ridding you’re mind of “can’t”. The trick is doing it even if your brain says “can’t”.

OK. Rant over.

FatGirl vs. Nemo


Posted by Amy | Posted in Weight Watchers | Posted on 09-02-2013

Tags: ,

Yet another huge weather event in the northeast. 12 hours before Storm Nemo even rolled in, the Weather Channel was calling it “Historic”.

Fatgirlscanrun vs Storm Nemo

“Historic” before it even happened?

WTF? You can’t call something that’s HASN’T HAPPENED YET historic. The media kills me sometimes, but that’s another post.

So yeah, there’s lots of snow.

About 18 inches right at the front door. Thankfully it was fluffy snow so I could get out the door to shovel.

Fatgirlscanrun vs Storm Nemo - snow at the front door

108 minutes later and I was done.

Fatgirlscanrun vs Storm Nemo - 108 minutes!

108 minutes!!!!!

Sidebar: 108 MINUTES!! HOLY COW! 108!!!! Hurley should be with me pushing the button, but they didn’t have snow on the Island

How do I know I was shoveling snow for 108 minutes?

Weight Watcher’s Active Link.

Fatgirlscanrun vs Storm Nemo

108 minutes of snow shoveling gave me 61% of my activity total for the day.

Yeah, I’m nerdy and this kind of stats tracking makes me giddy.

Oh, and of course I did Nemo inspired blizzard nailart.

fatgirlscanrun vs Nemo - blizzard nail art

Snowy Blizzard nails!

Quickie Nail Update


Posted by Amy | Posted in Looking Good | Posted on 28-01-2013

Tags: ,

So you know I’m sort of obsessed with nail art right? I mean, I go a little crazy on Pinterest about it (Follow my nail board!). Recently, discussing all things social media with the awesome Collective Bias team, Jay Berg offered to send me his wive’s hidden stash of unused nail products! Now that’s a good man!

So I’m testing out this press on manicure. So far, I think if you need your nails to look great for a single evening, this would be a great option, just press them on just before you head out the door. The packaging says they should last about a week, and I don’t have high hopes for that

Press on manicure 2013-01-27 11.21.34

Fifty Shades of Running


Posted by Amy | Posted in Having It All, Running | Posted on 09-01-2013

Tags: , ,

Fifty Shades of Running by FatGirlsCanRun At Dinner the other night with BUSINESS contacts…

Being introduced to the VICE PRESIDENT of something…

“This is Amy, she wrote that sex and running post…”

“Oh yeah, Fifty Shades of Running! I loved that post!”

Well, gee, that’s just precious. I am now known as the Blogger That Wrote That Sex Post.

For god sakes, I can’t be the only one that thinks about sex while running, can I?

I mean, half the country apparently is all fired up about Fifty Shades of Grey, the Today show is even talking about a “Fifty Shades Baby Boom”.

Prepare for a Fifty Shades of Rant Sidebar

For the love of all that is literary and holy, do not read Fifty Shades of Grey. First, it’s FAN fiction based on Twilight. TWILIGHT. Twilight has to be one of the worst bits of written fluff ever to masquerade as “Young Adult Fiction” as all it illustrates is that a young women will throw themselves off cliffs if they don’t have a man in their lives and the consequence of sex is death. Second, Fifty Shades is as poorly written as Twilight. Third, OMG the sex gets boring. Fourth, OMG really? A 27 year old foster kid reject becomes a billionaire, meets, courts, woos, gets obsessed with, marries and knocks up a virtual teenager? Great, now you just created yet another impossible to achieve romance standard that normal people will never live up to. Fifth, just because you like to get spicy in the bedroom DOES NOT mean you are mentally ill. Six, for god sakes when will women stop believing that they can change the men in their lives. I know many a fag hag who learned the hard way that you cannot turn your best friend straight just because you are secretly in love with them. Seven, oh wait, this is a running blog not a blog to rant about the impossible stereotypes that bad fiction have us believe is possible (you should hear my rant on porn, but alas, that is another post).

Anyway… sex while running. I can’t possibly be the only person who thinks about sex while running, can I? Maybe I’m the only one who openly admits it. I know, I know, fantasizing about sex is in the realm of “GUYS” and not a polite thing for a woman to admit to. But there comes a moment sometimes when you’re out running and the endorphins are popping about and you are hyper aware of what your body is doing. Each breath is big and real. You can feel your hips moving in their sockets, gravity pulling down at you, your legs pushing your forward, your clothes against your body. And it’s in that kind of moment that you can love and appreciate what your body can do, regardless of its size and shape. And Oh c’mon now, duh, you think about sex right?? OK, maybe it is just me, and maybe I just need to get laid.

A New Manifesto


Posted by Amy | Posted in Having It All, Mind Games, Uncategorized | Posted on 08-01-2013

Tags: ,

A new year and a new manifesto

A new year and a new manifesto

It’s January right? So as a fitness blogger I should have my pompoms out in full in New Year Resolution Mode. Yawn. I’ve done that. I’ve ridden the New Year high to lose weight, run a 10k, blah, blah, blah. But there is something fundamental missing, not only in this resolution nonsense, something fundamentally missing in my life. Brace yourself, this may hit a nerve.

After all the work I’ve done on myself – therapy, self-help books, journaling, empowerment classes – after all that, at the end of the day, I’m still waiting for that delicious, glorious moment when I’m thin enough to finally think I have the right to think I’m pretty and sexy and when I can finally be happy.
Yup, that’s right, I don’t think I have the right to be happy because I’m not thin and because I’m not thin, I’m not pretty or sexy. You see, when I’m finally thin, all those things will just magically poof into existence.

I walk around most days thinking I’m basically invisible, no makeup on, schlummy (yes, it’s a technical term) clothes, hair like the Wild Woman of Borneo. After all, no one is going to take notice of me anyway so what does our matter? Translation – I don’t think I matter.

But what if, now this may get a little radical and scary, but what if, just what if, I claimed being sexy and gorgeous and happy as my birth right? Right now? Right this very second?. What if I made that my Excalibur to heave from the stone and raise into the air with a these-boots-were-made-for-walking kind of growl? What if I fought for THAT instead of ticks on the scale or calories saved? What if RIGHTNOW I declared I was one sexy mother fucker and lived my life that way? What would my life then look like?
See, I keep piling up all this evidence that that I’m not pretty. Like beans I toss in a jar which is about bursting at this point. I collect all these moments that provide evidence that I’m not pretty or desirable. The dates that stand me up, the boys that don’t return phone calls, the plus size jeans, the bad hair days, they are all collected and noted in my evidence file like I’m building this Hoover era dossier on why I suck. I never ever pay any sort of attention to the moments that confirm I am a hottie. I disregard them as flukes, freaks of nature, tricks of the light. Like the day three random strangers complemented my legs when I had the balls to wear a short skirt, I mean three men, stopped, turned around walked back to me just to say I had great legs and I totally blew that off as meaningless. Those moments get discredited as abnormal, aberrations, people talking crazy and obviously delusional and doing drugs.

But what if? What if I lived life right now as if I was perfect and glorious and oozing with sex appeal? What if I lived every moment as confirmation of being powerful and happy instead of hiding out and waiting for some future moment of ambiguous glory? And I’m not talking about goofy affirmations in the mirror or cheer leader pompom talks before going out on the town. What if I woke up in the morning and put my vampy red Chanel lipstick and my killer holy-crap-you’re-over-6foot-tall stilettos to work at my home office? What if I took on this manifest of keeping your head, heels and standards high? What would my life look like then?

I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell going to find out.