When you’re a girl ‘blessed’ with a predominantly male name, like I am, you collect some pretty colorful responses over the years.  What’s that, Lauren?  You think it’s “awesome” when girls have guy names?  Yeah - that’s because you don’t have one.  Allow me to paint a picture of typical exchanges between strangers and myself:

Customer Service Rep: Your name, please?

Me: Kevin.

Service Rep: …[silence]…your name, please?

Me: Kevin.  Like a boy.  Spelled K-E-V-

Service Rep: Ohhh, you’re his wife?  Kevin’s?

Me: No… I’m Kevin.  Kevin Scott.  I have a guy’s name…

Service Rep: …Ohhhh.  Oh, okay.  I mean, you sound like a girl.  But I wasn’t sure because you have a guy’s name.  Wait.  You have TWO guys’ names!

—-

Male Restaurant Patron: Very funny.

Me: I’m sorry?

Patron: Your name tag - it says Kevin.  You don’t look like a Kevin to me.  Which boy did you trade name tags with?

Me: But my name is Kevin.

Patron: Right, and my name is Ashley, ‘Kevin.’

—-

Interviewer: So your name really is Kevin.  Well, that’s… interesting.  Did your parents want a boy?

Me: No, they wanted girls.

Interviewer, bewildered: Did they… think you were a boy?

Me: No, they knew pretty early that I was a girl.

Interviewer, even more bewildered: Is your dad’s name Kevin?

Me: No, his name is John.  I’m really excited about this posit-

Interviewer: Well that’s… interesting.

—-

Dug: She’s storing food for her babies.

Russell: Her babies?!  Kevin’s a girl?!

—

It’s unfair, really; my parents were smitten by a name they discovered in a bad movie (To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday, for my masochistic readers) and I get stuck with it for all of eternity, forced to forge a smile with every smug, “well, it’s good you don’t look like a boy,” or “like a boy named Sue - ever heard that one?”

When you’re a girl with a dude name meeting new people, it sucks.  Instead of focusing on the name to match the new face in front of you, you’re preparing your defense arsenal: “No, it’s actually Kevin - not Devin,” or “Kevin, like a boy…” and you miss their name altogether.  Talk about feeling like a narcissist.  Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve introduced myself as Kevin-Like-A-Boy, I can say with confidence that my name would be among those on the Forbes list.  But alas.

As a kid, I fantasized about changing my name.  I’d rebel and choose something deliciously feminine like Samantha or Jessica or anything ending with a ‘y’ - anything to spare my future Homecoming dates the agony of having to wear a gaudy garter with two guys’ names on it.  But that was then; this is now.  At 24, being a girl rocking a guy’s name is a badge of honor.  No one ever forgets my name and it actually works for me more than you’d think - guys aren’t as repelled by it as you might assume.

So, Lauren, you can be jealous of the “you’re the man” emails I’ve received, the sampling of men’s razors and shaving creams and tuxedo offers and those times back in elementary school when I was put in the boys’ cabins at camp.  Because my name, despite the headache that it comes with, is awesome.  Just like me.

By now I’ve realized what a terrible blogger I am.  After sitting in front of a computer all day, it comes as no surprise that after work the last thing I want to do is fire up my laptop and stroke the keys “for fun.”  Alas.

Getting to the point of this post: I’ve been training for a marathon and have consequently been dragging myself out of bed well before sun-up to log some miles before work.  On a really endorphin-saturated day, I’ll hit the trail after work, too.  Needless to say, I’m a little exhausted and my body’s taking a[n unnecessary] beating, so I need to be using gear that can soften the blow to my ankles/knees/back/shins.  My doctor is an avid runner so we’ve had this discussion time and time again and have yet to come up with a favorable solution for the crux of the matter: I like cute shoes.  I like running.  No one makes cute, properly-cushioned running shoes anymore.  What’s a fashionista to do?

I high school, I had over 10 pairs of Nike Shox - some I bought because I liked the color (rest in peace, black and hot pink pair), others for the personalized “I.D.” feature (like the red/white/black “CHS Cowgirls” pair I designed to wear at track meets in between races), or because no one else had them (Shox + zip shroud, what a concept!)  Shox weren’t really good for anything other than being cute, and my cross country coach yelled at me enough that I finally caved and stopped by my local Run On!  I got fitted and pranced around the store while the shopkeeper studied my foot strike.  After stroking his chin and furrowing his brow, he disappeared to the stockroom and I awaited my prognosis.  Minutes later he emerged, proudly presenting me with a heinous pair of Aasics.  Gross, I thought in cliched ninth-grade girl repulsion, but I bought the ugly runners and wore them for about three months before switching back to my beloved Nikes.

I currently run in LIVESTRONG Nike Air Max+.  While cute (or as cute as they make them nowadays) - and expensive - these shoes are killer on my shins and lower back.  I was nearly brought to tears on my run this morning and should probably park my butt on the couch for a week and RICE (Rest, Ice, Compress, Elevate) till the aching goes dormant again.  Ah, to have access to the CHS Field House ice baths again.

So, the question remains: Who makes a functional/fashionable running shoe and where can I snag a pair?

I’m happy to report that today is the end of day six of my dieting stint, and tomorrow will conclude my ‘research.’ And I thought the day might never come!

The past two days have been a breeze.  I thought better than to bore you with an entire post dedicated to yesterday’s exciting events of dusting, vacuuming, Lysol-wiping, and Swiffering every square inch of my apartment and watching the Masters - you’re welcome.  Work was work today - nothing exciting to report there.

I never really realized how much of my life revolves around eating.  It’s kind of depressing, actually.  On my way home from the office I started to dial up a girlfriend to see if she wanted to grab froyo (one of my faaavorite guilt-free treats) on the patio at Pinkberry, till I realized, nope, that’s food - can’t have it.  I settled for a two mile walk on the Katy Trail instead and became quickly embarrassed at how exhausting such a mundane task has become.  I’ll be thrilled when I can work out again.  Thrilled.

I have so much free time on my hands when I get home that I’m not sure what to do with myself.  If my closet wasn’t already color-coordinated, all my nail polishes and lipglosses sorted and stored by brand and my headbands in order from smallest to largest (wow, I just realized how OCD I am) I’d work on those tasks, but alas, the anal girl inside me already beat me to the punch.  So instead I sit here, typing away in self-discovery of my crazy-weird habits and boring you with the end of my-

HOLD UP.  How did I forget to mention the fact that I’ve now lost SEVEN POUNDS?!  Because I have.  I’m a little hurt to know that I had seven pounds to lose… but I’ll go ahead and blame that on my heavy initial weigh-in.  But yeah, I’m beyond ecstatic and can visually see the results of my insanity.  Now let’s just hope it doesn’t all pile back on once I dive head-first into a vat of gravy after eating my weight in biscuits like a good southern girl…

I’m already looking forward to my ‘retox’ - see you on the other side!

It’s Saturday night at midnight thirty, and where am I?  Snuggled up in bed… with my laptop… and a nightcap of lemonade.  Yes, I survived a fourth day of the Cleanse.

As my Googling foreshadowed, each day has been a little easier to complete.  In fact, at this rate I’m tempted to push through to my initial goal of a ten day cleanse… but have since decided to resign once I polish off this final bottle of syrup and/or my remaining lemons - whichever comes first.  Go ahead, judge me.

As mentioned in my [apologetically whiny] last post, my four-pounds-lighter body and I spent the afternoon bronzing poolside, silently scoffing at meatheads and coveting other girls’ swimsuits.  I managed to effortlessly swap my usual day-drinking accessory (vodka water) for lemonade; to the unsuspecting eye it probably appeared that I was taking swigs of some mysterious mixed beverage before noon like a champ.  At home in my room, I studied myself in my swimsuit for a while, not sure what to think.  Why do only my arms look thinner?  I can see a lot of ribcage - maybe I should stop.  No, you look exactly the same.  Wait, if I lock my ankles and push my knees away from each other my thighs don’t touch!  These are the kind of perverse thoughts that ran through my head.  I’m going insane.

But not really.

For dinner I watched friends eat tacos at Fuzzy’s, which was almost complete torture because a) I drank less lemonade today than in the days prior, making me hungrier AND b) because the outdoor table I selected (while everyone was ordering inside) ended up being downwind of a couple splitting a pile of loaded nachos.  My mouth, still coated in tangy lemonade, watered for the first time.  It was then that I decided why the heck not to accompany my dinner group for chocolate shakes at Braum’s.  I’m not even a shake gal really, but smelling the burger grease pour through the drive-thru window made me crave everything I saw on the stretch of Lemmon Ave. on our way home.  Whataburger and Quizno’s and Buzzbrews, oh my!

Tomorrow will, more than likely, be my last day on the Cleanse.  Unless the Maple Syrup Fairy replenishes my stash or I wake up to a lemon tree growing through my kitchen window, this is it.  Better make it count, right?

Despite the fact that my throat feels coated in syrupy acid and I have a constant desire to brush my teeth, I’ve made it past the hardest part of the Cleanse: day three!  As expected, yesterday was the toughest day yet - at this point, it’s not so much that I crave food but that I’m tired of the taste of the mixture and want a little variance.  If I were to cheat with celery, it’d only be because I’m so sick of the taste of lemonade.  (R.I.P. once-delicious Chick-Fil-A lemonade - you’re damaged goods to me now.)  Perhaps Mr. Burroughs should’ve thought about that when he created the diet…

I’m learning a lot about what triggers my hunger: rarely is it actual hunger - usually I just want to eat when food’s available.  When I’m not on the diet I graze on snacks throughout the day at the office to keep my metabolism up, and snack often while I’m home watching TV.  Noticing when I would usually reach for a bag of greasy chips will help me to fight those urges once the Cleanse is over - which was the main reason I wanted to attempt it.  Mental cravings must be fought; physical ones should not.

I realize what a headcase I must sound like.  I wasn’t anywhere near overweight to begin with and now I sound like an anorexic in training - but I can assure you this is only a temporary lifestyle and my primary goal of the Cleanse was to overcome another mental hurdle like I did by running a half marathon.  You’d think racing 13.1 miles and the ten weeks of training leading up to the event would be a lot more difficult than a juice fast, but I’d beg to differ.  There’s a reason more than half of Americans are obese: we feel our “hunger” (in quotes because it’s usually boredom or proximity to food that we find ourselves wanting to eat) is justified and that we shouldn’t deprive ourselves of a basic need.

Nights seem to be the worst time on the Cleanse - both Thursday and Friday evening I felt like throwing in the towel, but my stubbornness has allowed me to soldier on.  I’m not sure if it’s because I’m generally lethargic since I’m not taking in enough calories or if it could be because I’ve only lost three pounds since my initial weigh-in (a low number compared to others’ blogs), but I start overthinking the stupidity of depriving myself of food and want to quit.  Last night I went to bed at 11 (the time I’d usually be walking up to the first of many bars on a Friday night) with the aid of lovely little Ambien and, fortunately, slept like a rock.

Which brings us to day four.  As I type this, I’m sipping on “breakfast”: frozen lemonade (blended with ice) and enjoying the weather while licking the maple syrup off the tablespoon measure (I was warned this would tragically become the highlight of my day).  I’ll be spending the afternoon at the pool… watching 20-somethings get drunk and have fun while I pretend my liquid diet is an alcoholic beverage.  Should be loads of fun!

Well, I completed my first full day of the Cleanse and lived to tell about it. So far so good!

I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed and had a glass of lemonade for breakfast while getting ready for work. Throughout the course of the day, I ended up drinking eight glasses and not feeling much of an urge to cave - I even tagged along with work friends to watch them eat lunch at La Madeleine without so much as batting an eye at my beloved pesto pasta salad. It wasn’t until I spotted the shrimp cocktail and fruit spread at my Junior League mixer that evening that I really started to question my motives… however, I held fast (pun intended) and abstained. How many more days of this?

I severely underestimately how much of my supplies I’d need, so was obligated to go to the grocery store to restock my lemons and maple syrup. Unfortunately for me, I’ve had an insatiable craving for avocados lately and was forced to squeeze my eyes shut whilst palming the lemons for ripeness. I was in and out of that store in about two minutes - I couldn’t take the aisles of frozen pizza, sour cream and onion chips and Asian stir-fry. (That hurt just to type - time for a big swig of lemonade…)

When I got home from the mixer, I begrudgingly cracked open the liter of Smart Water waiting for me in the fridge and and poured in the sea salt with a frown on my face. Not going to go into the details of my Salt Water Flush, but suffice it to say my frown didn’t disappear until this morning and the odds of me chugging another cold liter of salt water are slim to none.

I felt insanely lethargic and shaky after the SWF but found solace in an early bedtime and peaceful, dreamless sleep - despite warnings I’d read about having nightmares and cold sweats while on the Cleanse.

Today is a new day - and the first day of my weekend on the Cleanse. Hello Masters, Ambien and taping off the dining room and kitchen “just in case” - wish me luck!

I apologize for my writing hiatus, O handful of readers, but between having a big girl job, training for a half marathon and working on my book I haven’t had ample time to dedicate to this blog.  I’ll get better about it - promise.

Now that I’ve conquered my first half marathon (right on the nose of my target time, I might add!), I’m determined to face my next mental challenge: dieting.  Being a runner, I’ve never really portion-controlled my meals or stopped myself from eating anything.  Sure, I give up fast food every now and then and ration my alcohol intake when I feel it appropriate, but I’ve never followed an actual diet plan - or worse, fasted.

Originally I had planned to start my I-want-to-lose-seven-pounds-before-swimsuit-season diet on the weekend so I could hole up in my apartment and wallow in self-pity while my stomach gurgles expletives at me… but I jumped the gun and took the plunge today - Wednesday, April 6th.

For those who haven’t been exposed to the crazy fad that is the Master Cleanse, it’s a recommended ten-day diet that’s supposed to rid the body of toxins and waste built up in the colon.  Gross, right?  Well, it worked wonders for Beyonce Knowles - who shed a whopping 20 pounds in 14 days for her role in Dreamgirls - and I’m determined to achieve similar results.

And now for our Q&A session:

Q: Why are you doing the Master Cleanse?  Do you really think you need to lose weight?

A: Need to?  No.  Definitely not.  This is 60% mental challenge, 40% test to see if my body can actually change shape.  In my half marathon training, I ran 170 miles in preparation for the 13.1 mile race and lost one measly little pound.  Granted, I know muscle weighs more than fat and I wasn’t training to lose weight in the first place, but I thought hoped it would’ve sort of happened organically.  Enter Plan B.

Q: Okay, so what’s your current BMI?  What is a BMI?

A: I’m 5’8 and weighed in at 129 pounds today (three pounds over what I weighed at the end of race training - ugh), so my Body Mass Index going into the Cleanse is 19.6, which is on the low end of healthy weight (18.5 - 24.9).  Your BMI is a ratio of fat-to-frame that dictates a lot of your health.  The higher your BMI, the unhealthier you are and more at-risk you become for a lot of cardiovascular diseases and cancers.

Q: Why are you writing about this on your fashion blog?

A: Why not?

Moving right along…

So, as I mentioned earlier, I meant to begin my quest for a bangin’ bikini bod two days from now, but I woke up feeling up for the challenge and, after my mini bagel with cream cheese (190 cal) I decided today would be my first ease-in day.  Easing in to such a drastic diet change is supposed to help reduce the shock of eliminating solid foods from your diet, slowly shrinking your stomach so you don’t fall victim to severe hunger pangs.  I trotted down to the cafeteria at my office and loaded up on V8, V8 Splash and chicken noodle soup (each at 70 cal) and ended up drinking three V8 Spashes, a regular V8 and the chicken noodle soup broth for a grand total of 540 calories.  I’m not sure whether to feel empowered… or stupid.  I know I’m depriving my body of what it needs to function at its best, but doctors approve this plan for up to ten days so I’m sticking by it.

After work, I ducked in the grocery store for my supplies (lemons, cayenne pepper and maple syrup) and raced home to make my first concoction.  Not bad!  I have to admit I was surprised that it was not only bearable, but almost enjoyable - clearly the first sign of the cleanse’s effectiveness is mind-loss, because there’s no way lemon juice, cayenne pepper and syrup mixed with water could taste any less than bad.

It’s 10:30 and I’m winding down from the day and feel pretty decent (which I owe to the bagel I had 14 hours ago, no doubt).  Still too early to really get a feel for the diet (as I’m avoiding the dreaded Salt Water Flush for a few days), but I’ll report back tomorrow.

Enjoy a piece of cake for me!