Purpose

I just received an email from one of our instructors that just went through her first round of chemo therapy.  She was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She has been sending updates on a weekly basis to keep those close to her informed about her health and well being after her diagnosis.  Each time I have read the update she has sent I have smiled from ear to ear.  Strange right.  You would think that receiving this weekly update would be heart wrenching.  Quite the opposite actually.  She has been so optimistic, upbeat and honest.  This week she sent a message describing that she is going to attend a conference to be a wellness coach for other women that are going through breast cancer, and that she believes that this may be the plan that was intended for her.  How incredibly inspiring is that?  Sometimes through our greatest pains in life we discover the path we are supposed to travel to truly serve our lives greatest purpose.  Before she found out she had breast cancer and had to come off of our schedule she was one of our most popular instructors.  She had packed classes in a 7:25am time slot, a time I honestly would have never thought would draw a large crowd.  It was crowded because of her.  Her passion, her knowledge, warmth, motivation and her inner beauty are contagious.  When I think of all the women that I know this woman will touch on such a deep level after enduring this experience how could you not smile.

Scary

I have been told recently that I am scary.  I attended a up skill training in my profession in which they asked us to identify one word that would make you sad if you felt like someone would use this word to describe you.  My word was Scary. 

My passion is group fitness.  I love it because of the inclusiveness, and the energy that is created in a room of people working hard to achieve a common goal.  I pride myself on my abilities to push people out of their comfort zones.  To help them reach their goals physically and mentally.  I feel like in this lifetime I have been given a gift to instill and cultivate passion for health in others.  The last emotion in the world I would want to create in people is fear. 

My fitness journey started 10 years ago.  During pregnancy with my daughter I gained 80 pounds.  I lost about 10 pounds after delivery but kept a good amount of weight on my small frame for a year after my first child’s birth.  I was an emotional eater.  I had struggled with depression throughout my short life span.  I developed a layer of fat over my body to hide from issues that I was too afraid to face.  I had moved back to the town that I had grown up in during the final months of my pregnancy.  I had on different occasions come across people I had grown up with, family friends who could no longer recognize me because of my dyed dark hair and my changed body.  Part of me felt comfort in that. Part of me liked the anonymity I didn’t want to be recognized as the blonde haired cheerleader from my past. I struggled with that former version of myself.  At the risk of sounding arrogant I struggled with the pressure that beauty can put on a person.  I felt like people had preconceived notions about who I was as a person. I also wasn’t the person I wanted to be in my youth.  I made bad decisions. I hurt people.  I didn’t like the legacy I created for myself. I was and still am always compared to my mother, who is gorgeous, but people always strangely tell me how I am not quite as pretty as she is.  For these and other reasons too personal to mention for me beauty equaled disgust. I knew though that the life style I had created for my self wasn’t making me feel better about myself and it was certainly not the type of life that I wanted to role model for my daughter.

Thankfully I started working at the kids club at a gym in town, so I could work and bring my daughter with me.   At first I didn’t even work out.  When working at a gym the last place I wanted to go was back to the gym.  I hated working out so that was the best excuse in the world for me.  My mother encouraged me to go with her to a 5:00am spin class with the premise of, if you work out before your day starts you will have no way to put it off.  I hated the experience.  The first class I went to I went up to a bike and started to adjust the settings.  A woman came up to me, obviously upset, and said “that is my bike.”  I explained to her that I didn’t realize that people had certain bikes.  She went on to tell me that it was important for her to have that bike because of its position in relation to the fans.  I was mortified.  Class hadn’t even started and I already screwed up.  During the class I felt like a failure.  Everyone in the class knew my mom and I was embarrassed for her that she had to bring in her fat daughter.  I couldn’t even do 20 minutes worth of work in the class with out feeling like I was going to throw up.  My butt felt like it was on fire because of the uncomfortable seat.  I didn’t want to go back. 

I let my butt heal one day and then decided to try again.  Everyone kept telling me this was what was to be expected in a spin class.  One day was not enough time.  I hopped back in the saddle of the bike and wanted to scream.  I couldn’t imagine why people would choose to put them selves through this and with a smile and what seemed to be a tremendous amount of joy.  In fact, the second class I went to my mom explained to me that you had to go 30 minutes early to class to even get a bike.  4:30am??!!?? I secretly thought she was nuts.  I quickly realized why this second class was so popular.  The instructor came in and it was clear she had an amazing relationship with the class.  They loved her.  She commanded the room before she even put on the music.  She had the best music.  It wasn’t even music I would have picked out, but when she played it her passion for it was contagious.  She did exude a lot of bravado, but I liked it.  I needed someone confident to pull me through the life I created for myself.  She made the class fun.  I forgot about how badly my butt hurt and found myself actually having a great time.  After that class I attended every class she taught on the schedule.  She not only inspired me in the class she would talk to me afterward and we became really good friends.   To this day I question if it weren’t for that positive experience in that second class I took I wonder where my life would be today.  

I think that is why I am so worried about being thought of as scary.   I know that attending one class created a path for me that I cherish.  I would never want to intimidate someone and stunt one’s ability to move forward in their fitness journey.  I can honestly say I love the way I feel now.  I feel comfortable in my skin.  I enjoy my life.  I want more than anything to share this feeling with as many people as possible.  I feel in my heart it is one of my life’s great purposes.  The last thing I want to do is get in my own way.  Hearing that I am scary is resonating true to me.  I need to make some shifts and find balance.  I pride myself on being “hard core.”  I even have a pair of sneakers that have the words “hard core” imprinted on them.  I need to go back to my roots and tap in to the girl I once was entering in to a class the first time.  I know a lot of people come to my classes because they enjoy the challenge, members who like to be pushed to a place that they feel that they could not reach on their own.  I trust in my abilities as an instructor that I can reach a place where I am no longer intimidating. I don’t want to swing too far in the other direction and take away from the experience of those who want and need the push but the goal I am setting for myself is to be warm.  I want to host a class that is well rounded.  That people feel welcome and leave challenged and inspired.  I want my first impressions to be thoughtful, and when people talk about me and my class I want the first word they think of to be “inspiring”.  I know that is the way I felt after I had my first positive group exercise experience.  I am forever grateful. 

I have had issues with image and the way in which I am perceived my whole life.  In my life I am warm, calm, thoughtful, strong, and full of energy.  It is only fair for my class to experience all parts of my personality and not just expose them to certain sides of myself.  The only way to change ones perception of you, in my opinion is through action.  Despite the fact that my classes are full, I know that I have not reached my full potential, I know I have room for a tremendous amount of growth.  I am so thankful that someone told me they were scared of my class. I know I will have better experiences in every class I teach. I know I will be able to authentically take care of every member in my class.   I know what it feels like to attend a class for the first time and not know what to expect.  I need to be brave enough to go back to the beginning.

I Love Muppets

When I was in college I still collected stuffed animals of the Sesame Street characters.  Looking back now I am sure my room mate was probably scared that she was rooming with someone with the intelligence of a preschooler when I pulled each plush toy out of the moving box.  I will admit, I feel like I was a late bloomer in the maturity department, but I still believe I have a very child like spirit.  I still hold on to a very strong fondness to the characters on Sesame Street and of course The Muppets.  I think I watched the show so much growing up the team of puppets half raised me. Honestly, I was much more excited than my children to go see the Muppet movie that just came out.  It may be immature, but the dry sense of humor, the underdog story, and the sheer odd placement of puppets whose characters make absolutely no sense  interacting with humans just makes me smile.  As quirky as I have always felt about my love for these characters it appears I am not alone.  At the movie theatre today my children were the only kids there.  During the movie, my daughter was shocked because adults all around her sang "The Rainbow Connection," as it appeared on the screen.  It seems like the impact of these shows not only touched my heart but also many others as well.  So I may have grown up enough to not collect the toys but I still feel like a little girl when I see my family of puppets on screen.

A very special class

 Almost eight years ago now, I decided to make a life style change.  I gained 80 pounds during my pregnancy with my daughter Ella.  I kept the weight on for a year after her birth.  The one thing that motivated me to live a healthier life more than anything else was that I wanted to be a better role model for my children.  Yesterday, my 6 year old son Tanner attended one of my group exercise classes.  Not only did he attend the class he did extremely well.  And he took the class with joy.  He was smiling from ear to ear from start to finish and he took it very seriously.  There were moments throughout the class that I had to fight back tears.  It was such a special experience.  When I was at my heaviest I hated exercise.  I was too embarrassed to go to the gym.  I never in a million years would of thought that I would be teaching classes.  To have the ability to share group exercise with one of my kids, the very reason I chose to make a change, meant the world to me.  It truly was one of the highlights of my life.

Inked

I have 3 tattoos.  I actually love all of them, absolutely no regret.
The first one I got when I was 17.  Yes, that is illegal. I am such a rebel.  I got it with my close friends in high school.  We all got the same thing, a flower on the inside of our ankle.  I think about my girl friends every time I look at it.  The second I got the day after I got married.  It was actually my husbands idea.   It was so unlike him at the time to want to do something so spontaneous and crazy so of course I tattooed his name on my derriere gladly.  The third I got on my 30th birthday.  It is a yin yang symbol on my waist.  I thought it would be wise to have the symbol of balance on my body since it is something that I constantly struggle with. It also was a celebration of the relationship I have with my husband.  I know our relationship thrives because our differences complement each other.  Honestly, I put it on my waist because I was proud of myself for maintaining my weight.  I knew I would never be heavy again.  I love my fitness lifestyle  so it was a reward of sorts for my hard work.
I love the way tattoos look.  I love the stories behind them.  I love how rebellious I felt each time I got one.  I know my skin will start to droop and the colors will inevitably fade, but the memories behind each moment are permanently ingrained.

MY FACE

A colony of pimples are taking over part of my face.  Driving me absolutely bonkers!!!  Every time I complain to my husband he looks at me warmly and says why don't you go see a professional.  Great advice actually, I should go see a professional.  I have consulted nearly all of my friends as well, who all have painfully beautiful skin I might ad, who have all given me wonderful advice as well.  So why, with all this valuable information have I not acted.  Not one of my friends recommended that I go to the local vitamin store and invest in supplements that supposedly control breakouts, but that is what I chose to do.  Why!!! My friends have beautiful skin, they hold the answer, and yet I choose a different path.  I could blame my fierce independence, or my laziness for a quick fix, or my frustration for past poor advice.  I have pondered the thought that I am destined to a life stuck in puberty.  I know this is not the first time I have struggled with a situation and instead of doing something about it, I complain... sometimes even to the point of tears.  So what am I getting out of it.  Why choose to allow boils to take over my face.  I don't take the next step ALOT because I fear the result.  So many of my friends recommend that I take birth control to control my hormones thus controlling breakouts.  I am afraid that I will forget to take them.  LAME!  That simple, that stupid, that maddening.  But really, whether it be my puss face or any other situation, fear of failure seems to always be the nasty villain at the end of the equation.  So today I vow to start poppin birth control pills.  My complexion no longer deserves to be punished for my unwillingness to face my fears.

Shark Attack

Last night I was watching Ella and Tanner playing together.  Tanner got a new toy that has a boat and a shark.  In the middle of their game Tanner stopped and told Ella that if she really got eaten by a shark he would jump in the water and try to save her but if he didn't live that would be O.k. because he didn't want to live without his sister.  Naturally this thought as a mother was extremely disturbing to me.  And, of course as a mother the thought has not left my head.  I explained to Tanner that if he was ever in a situation where someone he loved was in danger, it is  a brave thought to try and save them, but really it is better to try and get help.  The last thing someone he loved would want would be for him to put his life at risk as well.  Ella responded, "You have to admit mom, siblings change your life, I can't imagine a life without Tanner."  I watch them argue all day long, but then I watch them express to each other true confessions of love.  I feel like the relationship between siblings growing up is so special.  There is no editing, if they annoy one another they make it perfectly known.  They express authentic emotions, whether it be mad, sad, happy, or disappointed but if upset they always work it out and genuinely forgive each other. They embrace and accept each other for who they are.  So it is no surprise to me that they can't imagine a life without the other.  It is real true love.

Poke

So today Tanner got in trouble at the gym.  He was poking people.  I asked him why he chose to be naughty.  He said, "I really don't know Mom, sometimes I just feel like poking people."  Don't worry, we had the talk that this behavior is unacceptable, but secretly I couldn't help but smile.  I have a confession.  Sometimes I want to poke people too.  Not hurt them.  Just give them a big poke.  This behavior must be hereditary.

Babies don't shave

My daughter asked me if she could shave her legs the other day. I immediately responded, NO! Then of course I have been thinking about the conversation ever since. My first thought was are you crazy! Your a baby! Babies don't shave! So I told her that my mom told me I wasn't allowed to shave until I was in the fifth grade thinking that would buy me oodles of time. When she quickly responded,cool that means I can shave next year, I was baffled. I wanted to chase the words that floated out of my mouth and shove them back in, not because I didn't want her to shave, but because I didn't want her to grow up. I have been ready and really enjoy her growth intellectually, but this momma isn't quite ready for smooth legs yet. I honestly don't think she wants to shave because she wants to attract boy attention. If anything I think she sees me doing it and has the ridiculous notion that it looks fun. Well, it's not fun! It is a pain! A pain that I know I will eventually have to give in to. Along with many other heart wrenching, wish your daughter didn't have to go through what you went through moments. Slow down sis! I am not quite ready for you to be a big girl.

Cowboy

My favorite quote from this weekend came from my son. We were riding four wheelers on our camping trip and came a cross a group of riders on horseback.  My son was fascinated.  He shouted to them asking if they were Cowboys.  He continued to talk about Cowboys the rest of the trip.  So I mentioned to him that his Grandad Curt is a Cowboy and so is his Uncle Billy.  So then he said as excited as I have heard him, "Oh my Gosh!!! Does that mean I am part Cowboy?!?!
I answered yes, of course.  So he is 25% Italian, his dad was the last generation of the Choctaw nation so he holds a fraction of Native American, a little German, Mexican, and the rest must be Cowboy.
We all hold traits carried over from the generations that proceed us.  I hope that Tanner holds on to a little bit of the Cowboy spirit.  He is certainly proud to have the blood running through his veins.

33 going on 50:)

The other day I got mistaken for my sister-in-law to be's mother. She is 25. I regularly get asked if my mom is my sister. These are two very gorgeous human beings but I must say I feel like I am 33 going on 50. It must be because I am so mature. I know most of the people who utter these remarks are trying to pay those around me a compliment, but I think the next time they may receive a swift kick in the buttocks. How about just telling people they are beautiful without comparing them to someone else, that would be a refreshing change. Don't get me wrong, I do recognize that the women in my life look fabulous. It gives me a little hope that I will age gracefully. I know it is gross to fuss about, I know I am not unattractive. It just gets old sometimes, no pun intended:)

Ride the Rockies

Ride the Rockies 2011

Every time I get ready to tackle the challenge of  Ride the Rockies there are so many elements of emotion that accompany the experience.  Memories of relationships with riders that have ridden with us in the past, the fear of pain due to lack of training, the excitement of a challenge, the panic of bringing the appropriate gear for the elements, and the joy of knowing that no matter what.......memories will be created.  This trip was one of my favorites.  It was my fifth year completing the tour but in many ways it felt like my first.  We stayed in tents ran by a Sherpa service which was awesome slash not awesome at the same time.  It was great to feel so connected to the tour and the other riders and it definitely felt hard core but it was freaking freezing.  The first two nights we went without sleep because we were so cold.  I think the only thing that got us through was our sense of humor.  When you are sleep deprived, fatigued, and your butt feels like it is on fire what else can you do but laugh.   For those of you who don't ride you might be reading this and wondering why in the world would you get excited about taking a trip where the conditions seem miserable.  Well, I can tell you that every uncomfortable experience is worth the pain.  Cycling in Colorado is so incredibly beautiful,but that really isn't why I like it.  It is also an amazing workout, also not really that important to me.  I think I am addicted to the ride for a combination of reasons. 1). The camaraderie. When you spend a week with people sweating, laughing, and completing a goal together it is just special.  2). The feeling of living.  Pushing myself beyond perceived limitations is extremely fulfilling to me.  Spending time out of my comfort zone and taking risks makes me feel alive.  3).  The quiet.  Even though sometimes I am listening to music, I like the ability to tune out the rest of the world and just be.

This year, unfortunately, there was a death on the tour.  We actually rode up to the accident shortly after it occurred.  It has been haunting me quite a bit the last couple of days.  As I rode by I knew he had already past away.  When I saw him they were no longer trying to revive him, the were preparing to load him into the emergency vehicle.  When we approached the rest stop I saw his wife whom  he had been riding with sobbing.  She was riding in front of him so thankfully she didn't witness the accident but was waiting to hear how he was doing.  I can't even imagine how much pain she is experiencing now.  It is a nice thought to die doing something that you love, but it is still a tragedy.  I believe he was only 59.  He still had many rides that he should have experienced.  You can't help but put things in your life in perspective when you witness something so devastating.  Especially when it could have happened to any one  of us.  I am coming home inspired to take my life up a notch.  When I was riding after that experience my all consuming thought was that I wanted and needed to spend more time being active with my kids.  It is way to easy to get caught up in everyday life and forget to live life to the fullest.

I loved the ride. I love the people I rode it with. I love the memories. I will cherish the experience forever.

Mayonnaise

I hate mayonnaise.  I know it is a strong word but the sight of it makes me cringe.  My relationship with the popular condiment got ugly when I was in elementary school.  It is not the taste of it that bothers me so much, instead it is a memory associated with the spread that haunts me.  When I was younger I used to be in a ski racing group so I would go up to Powderhorn, our local ski resort, and hit the slopes every weekend.  One of these weekends I was sitting with a group of fellow skiers and one of the kids was playing with a packet of mayonnaise, squeezing it between his fingertips.  All of a sudden the packet burst and mayonnaise flew across the table and covered my face.  It got in my eyes, up my nose, and in my mouth.  It looked and felt like someone blew there nose all over me.  Gross!  To this day just looking at the spread makes me think of snot.

I think it is so interesting the way our minds work.  The way we can hold on to a memory and it can effect us our entire life.  I know that having to avoid a sandwich spread in the grand scheme of things is not that traumatic.   But there are so many experiences we go through when we are younger that are.  Each experience creates the unique individual we are destined to become, I guess I just wish sometimes working through our issues was as easy as avoiding a sandwich.   

I want my voice back:(

I miss my voice. I used to be a singer. Not a super good singer but good enough to hold a note. Now I try to sing and it sounds like poo. I damaged my vocal chords. A perfect blend of acid reflux and over coaching has led me to constant episodes of scratchy voice syndrome. Yes, I could give up wine, coffee, and coaching. But I refuse. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Next week, thankfully I will be doing Ride the Rockies. I will be on my bicycle, not really able to talk to anyone for several hours a day. I don't think this trip could come at a better time. I really do need to behave so I don't develop more scar tissue. So next time you see me with a coffee in hand, yell at me. I obviously need some accountability. I may not be able to tra la la la la anymore. But if I wasn't able to teach anymore I think I would lose my noodle. I am one of those type of people that if you tell me I can't have something I crave it every second of every hour of every day!!!!!! Dang addictive personality. I better develop a craving for hot tea ASAP. I wish it didn't take me losing the things that matter most to me to figure things out. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Mexico

I never thought a week ago I would be in Mexico. My mom asked me to come on Monday and we were on a plane the next morning. Not only am I thrilled for the oppertunity to partake in the rest and relaxation, but I am moved by the support I received from my family and friends to make it happen. It is hard for me to take breaks. I sit comfortably in go go go mode. I almost think that if mom had given me one months notice I would have turned down the offer. I needed to be shoved into the experience. I am very thankful for the ability to spend close to a week unwinding and connecting with my mom.
I will definitely come home tan. I will probably come home pickled, thanks to the margaritas (or truth serum as my mom calls them). But as the tan fades and the hang over wears off the memories that have been created on this trip will be forever held in my heart.

I will never be a wizard

Screwing up is terrible. I should know. I do it a lot. So the only thing worse in my opinion to the initial screw up is to become a repeat screw up offender. Rarely do I get the luxury of learning life's beautiful lessons the first go around. In the past I used to hide from my mistakes and pretend that they didn't exist. I bet you can guess how well that went:) I have come to the terms with the fact that I will never stop screwing up. If we don't have the inevitable time to time mishap I am not sure if we are really living. But facing each problem head on is the only way to move forward. So I guess the bad news is I will never become a wizard. I can't make things disappear. Good news is I will never become a wizard. I really don't think I would magically make each of my problems disappear even if I could. I love the lessons I am learning along the way.

Life is good

I am officially exhausted. I just got done teaching three classes today. This week put me to the test, it was emotionally, physically, and spiritually draining. Right now I am sipping a glass of wine so pardon my blogging slur. I have to say I am proud of my friends. It is weeks like these that I count my blessings and feel so fortunate to be surrounded by amazing people. Why do I like them? They are willing to take a look at the areas in their lives where there is room for improvement. Even if it is scary. And when I ask, they are not afraid to give me honest feedback. They look out for one another. They make me laugh. They are willing to take risks. They are patient but not too patient and I honestly feel like they push me to be a better person. I feel surrounded by love. Life is good.

Fear of the unkown snack

The other day Joe made me close my eyes and told me he had a snack and was going to put it in my mouth. FREAKED ME OUT!!!! So of course I know he wouldn't feed me anything disgusting, or too weird. So why the heck was I so freaked out. He had to force me to keep my eyes closed, and everything in me wanting to run! I think I might have some trust issues on my hands. If I had a hard time letting the person I love more than anything in this world feed me. I MIGHT have an issue! The unknown is scary. Whether it be as simple as the snack my husband was trying to give me or any life experience that lies before us. With out risk though we don't get the opportunity to reap rewards. I could have easily bit into something horrible, symbolic to some situations life brings us. But thankfully I ate it, and it was delicious! Of course he wouldn't tell me what it was. Terd. But I am happy I took the plunge. I can't wait to blindly enter the next adventure with Joe the outcome will surely be worth the risk.

A toast to triumph

A member of ours at the gym shattered both of his feet in a motorcycle accident and still had the motivation passion and attitude to continue to come to class in his wheel chair.   He wrote me an email today describing his personal story.  After being told from Dr.'s that he may never walk again he never gave up.  And is now able to take a full class standing.  Let's just say I was inspired, to say the least.  Even though I have watched him throughout his journey to read his experience in his own words brought tears to my eyes. Not only because I was so impressed by his courage and will but because it helped to put things in perspective for me.  I have been complaining because I have been having a hard time disciplining myself not to go through the Dairy Queen drive through, but a member in my class has the fortitude to fight against all odds.  I have been humbled.  If he can honor his body enough to fight through his pain and speed up his recovery then I am pretty sure I can just say no to an Oreo Blizzard.  I am seriously amazed and moved by his efforts.  Here's to a healthier tomorrow.

Sabotage

I hate that sometimes I forget to do things that I promise I'll do. I sends such an I don't care about you message. It is so selfish. In my case it is not that I don't care, it is my weakness of overcommitment to the point where I become overwhelmed and then I just shut down. Equally gross. Soooooooo disappointing! It is even more sick because I know I do it and still don't stop. I hate letting people down but yet I inevitably set myself up for failure. Haven't figured out yet why I continue the self sabotage. I must be getting something out of it or I wouldn't continue the cycle. Acts speak volumes, I know people are listening, I need to speak up! I wish that all blogs could be positive but sometimes I gross myself out.