When an online fitness celebrity asks you to write a blog a blog post, you write a blog post. Last week Juli aka Prom Queen, as she’s referred to at CF Broadway, asked me to guest appear on PaleOMG. I’m not a writer, not even close. Sh*t, I can barely string together comprehensive sentences when I’m hanging out with my friends, let alone put together a blog post that makes sense. Needless to say, I laughed mischievously at her request and kindly obliged. Then she started laying on all of the “but you can’t talk about” bullsh*t and soon everything I was going to put down on paper about was crossed off the list.
Then it hit me, like when I have to poop in the middle of a workout. Having a friendship with an online fitness celebrity is hard, and honestly, kind of a pain in the ass. And thus here are some stories on why I hate having the one and only Juli Bauer as my friend.
1. I HATE Whole Foods.
This used to be one of my favorite activities. Finish up working out, then drive over to Whole Foods for dinner. I would stare at the hot bar, then begin filling up my container with the most stoner combinations imaginable. (I’m pretty sure bystanders thought I had the munchies. I don’t smoke weed. Sooooo, jokes on them.) Now when I go to Whole Foods, Juli forces me into the bulk isle where I eat 3-45 Haystacks and/or chocolate covered walnuts. I then venture over to the hot bar where I am no longer hungry due to all of the chocolate I consumed. I fill up my container with 3 chicken wings and 1 piece kale, attempt to pay for my meal, and head home. I say attempt to pay, because 96% of the time while I am standing in line I hear “Oh.MY.GOD! Are you Juli Bauer?!” At this point I generally throw my food down in a fit of rage and walk out of the store. But on an off day, a day where I can escape her celebrity lifestyle, I pay for my food and head home. At this point I usually find myself sitting on the couch, keeled over mid-stomach ache, livid with Juli because of the insulin spike she has forced my body into and the lack of food I have to eat for dinner. I’ve now banned all PaleOMG gear during public outings when food is involved. Things have yet to improve.
2. Cheat Meals are best when shared with friends
I don’t know about you, but I cherish my cheat meals. The longer I follow this Paleo/Paleish lifestyle, the more infrequent my cheat days have become. Leading up to Regionals I think I may have had 1-2 cheat days in 2 ½ months. That’s a long f’in time for me, so shut up. Somehow I managed to survive a wedding in Mexico at an all inclusive resort AND a 3-day music festival without straying too far from my diet. So when I say I was excited to crush some Five Guys burgers and ice cream post Regionals, I mean it. I went straight H.A.M on that business. So picture this, it’s me, Juli, and our friend Sam hanging out in Juli’s living room. We are all still in our workout clothes and Juli, the kind/giving soul that she is, decides to take off her shoes and share the lovely smell of her feet with Sam and myself. You know how your shaker bottle smells after you use it and then leave it in the heat of your car for 4 days? Yeah, I almost passed out. Those little feet pack a punch. But wait, things got worse, WAY worse. In the time between when we ate and the drive back to Juli’s house, something happened. Something bad happened. Now bear with me because the details are hazy as I’ve tried to strike this from my memory, but it went something like this…The gluten from the hamburger bun and the ice cream must have started what I can only imagine to be WW3 inside of Juli’s stomach. Something humorous was said by yours truly, and before I knew it I found myself outside, on her porch, in utter disbelief, sprinting towards my car with the realization that Juli is not allowed to eat gluten in my presence EVER AGAIN.
3. Juli and I are OFFICIALLY married.
I am not dating Juli. I am not Juli’s crush. But I AM getting the short end of the stick on this relationship. I get all the emotional talks, the questions about relationships, and all the other “interesting stuff” girls talk about but none of the sex. I can only assume this is how marriage plays out: All talking, no loving. I don’t mind sitting and listening to Juli’s problems, I mean hell she does the same for me. But when everyone, and I do mean everyone, thinks we’re dating, I think I deserve some sort of compensation for all of the harassment. I’m not asking Juli to trade kissy face for proper damage control, but I do think I’m entitled to a little reimbursement. I think Juli should send a monthly gift, preferably her No-Bake Sticky Apple Bars or some other tasty treat, to me while I’m deployed to Afghanistan. OR she could teach me some of those ridiculous dance moves that you all seem to love so much. This way I can stop looking like I am mid-seizure on the dance floor or am forced to steal moves from my other friends (If I like your moves, Ill perfect it, then claim I invented it). At the very least I should be allowed to stand behind Juli during workouts. Preferably during squats and or deadlifts. Juli has a nice butt, I should be allowed to appreciate it and use it for motivation when I workout.
Real talk though, Juli is one of my best friends. She has helped me through a lot of sh*t over the last year. She’s forced me to train harder than I ever have in the past and look forward to rest days. She has taught me what not to say to girls, and has prepared me for when I do find the right one. She has motivated me on a daily basis to become a better “athlete” through hard work and perseverance, because that’s how she approaches her training every day. The Juli you read about daily isn’t some false identity. That’s Juli. Generally upbeat, usually positive, and always making everyone around her better. While it’s hard living in the shadows of an internet phenom, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.