What if? (Strong language)

Inspiration can come from anywhere. I picked a new route today and discovered a gem. Someone has created a small town in their yard (see photo). It had a school, a church, even a graveyard. I love finding kitsch in the craziest places.

Discouragement can come anywhere too. My mind has been distracted, racing all day. I have been two steps behind. On my walk, Ryan Adam's Starting to Hurt came on. That just exasperated everything.

What if I can't finish?

What if I have to walk, or skip an obstacle?

What will people think of this fat chick?

On and on and on.

I pressed on and finished my walk, but I didn't enjoy myself. I kept wishing I was home.

Sitting here now I'm pissed off. I have treated my body like shit for years. YEARS! I came close to needing a liver biopsy at 37. Years of gout have eaten away at my left toe joint, which will more than likely need reconstructive surgery.

Did I deserve any of that? No, but I earned it. Just like I have earned the right to do this race, to walk if I need to and skip obstacles if I need to. Fuck anyone who tells me or judges me otherwise. This includes my inner discourager.

So I take your depressing Ryan Adams song and raise you a single lyric from it that I will cling to.

Take your tomorrow, pain and your sorrow and teach it how to fly.

Just Go.

I let myself get frustrated again. I took a month off the scale, got back on and nothing had changed.

I got the bright idea to try a cleanse. I didn't want to spend money, and I wanted it to be natural. I picked the Dr. Oz three-day cleanse. PROS: Lost seven pounds in three days. Also learned to appreciate food without seasoning or preservatives. CONS: It took my body a week to recover. I also gained all the weight back.

Finally, spring had sprung. It was nice enough to take my exercises outside. I also came to the harsh realization that the Warrior Dash was only three months away. Holy crap!

I downloaded the app RunKeeper some time ago. I loaded it up and set up a 5K run training schedule. And I went.

And I loved it!

As soon as I finish a walk/run, I want to go back out again. Every time I go out I see progress. I no longer dread hills or stairs. And it isn't hard. And by hard mean I don't get my mental ass kicked. My mind is clear, and my new mantra is clear as well:

Just go.

Getting healthy is as simple as that. Protein shakes, gluten free, cross training, scales... All of it is a bunch of yapping, buzzing. Just go. Don't think, don't show off, don't keep talking about it.

Just. Go.

To weigh or not to weigh

For two weeks I have not seen the number change on the scale. Not up, not down. Just the same three numbers staring back up at me.

I have exercised at least four times a week. I have honored my healthy eating vow. My arms have more definition, I have collar bones and ankles. Cory even said I am getting that little crevice in my abs. My keg is turning into two two-liter bottles. But am I happy? No.

Why do we base so much on a scale. We let it dictate our mood, our self worth. We let it decide for us if we eat well or continue to exercise. Why are so many decisions made by those numbers? Heck, we give those numbers more power than our credit score!

So that's it. I'm taking the power back. I will not get back on that scale until March 1st. For all those who are having the same struggle, I encourage you to join me.

Motivation From Unexpected Places

This week has been full of ups and downs. A play date on Monday, toddler music class on Tuesday, followed by what can only be described in exorcist proportions. The flu or bad food reaction had blanketed CeCe's crib and a majority of its contents. Only her muppets and handmade blanket were spared.

After a long evening of teaching a toddler how to throw up in a bucket (a throw back to my sorority days), she slept soundly while I was half awake all night, listening to any signs of illness over the monitor. The next day there was no workout, and I felt it. I was dragging all day while CeCe, though lethargic was basically back to her normal self.

Backstory: When I married Cory, I encouraged him to get back into his Catholic roots. I had never been a "fan" of the religion, but I knew it was important to him. So many signs from God later, I found myself going through classes and making Catholicism my own

Yesterday evening, longtime friend Chris Lovett called me. We talked for about forty minutes about our kids, our lives. Then he asked, "I was wondering if you would like to be Ben's godmother." I was speechless. Holding back tears, I said, "Are you sure?" Chris said, "You've been on an incredible journey with your Catholicism. I cannot think of a better person to be my son's role model."

I went to bed and woke up feeling invigorated. I decided today was the day to tackle the elliptical. Last attempt only lasted 10 minutes. This time? THIRTY! It's amazing what makes you go and what keeps you going. Wherever you find your motivation, hang onto it and GO!

The Word "Can't"

Cory not only got me up at 6 am to work out, he was also my cheerleader. I truly appreciate his unconditional love and his confidence in me to make positive changes.

He is a good cheerleader - 95% of the time. And I am not dogging him in any way. He has been diligently exercising for several months. He is leagues ahead of me. I appreciate that he has so much confidence in me he thinks I can be at his level. But I am not. And him telling me I should exercise this way or that, do this much time, this much weights, etc. frankly ticks me off.

So today I explore the word "can't". You watch Biggest Loser and you see the trainers screaming at crying contestants as they utter, "I can't."  But can they really can't? You know they've gone through a thorough health screening. Those trainers know exactly what their bodies can handle. They aren't going to push them beyond what they can do physically. Mentally, yes, but not physically. What those contestants mean to say is, "I won't".

There are physical things I literally cannot do. My knees, my muscle tone will not let me. Physically, it isn't possible. But someday, it will.

Example. We have what we affectionately call the CeCe Corral. It's a multiframe baby gate that stretches across our living room. It keeps her from getting into Cory's computer, the wood pellet fire place, the dog food. When we first got it, I couldn't climb over it. I was not limber enough. But I lost weight and got in better shape. Now I can nearly hurdle this thing. I was physically limited, and now I am not. I went from "can't" to "can".

So many people, when they start their fitness journey, try to meet the abilities of their peers. Many of those goals are physically out of their reach. They get discouraged and they quit. Today I couldn't full body plank or do a side plank. My muscles aren't strong enough yet. Instead I planked with my knees down and did squats during the side planks. I still got a good workout and I didn't feel like a failure.

Someday I WILL full body and side plank. And I will celebrate and shoot for the next goal.

One goal at a time.

Crap eating

I had the craziest dream this past weekend. I dreamt I was running errands and saw cheese puffs on clearance.

If you know me, you know I love cheese puffs. The big, greasy ones that coat your fingers with processed cheese goodness. It is difficult for me to resist cheese puffs, especially in a dream state. So I added to my purchases and plowed into them as soon as I was on my way. I was slamming them down without looking.

When I finally did notice them, they were clear. And each one had a live bug in them. They were on clearance because they were a failed product of a tequila company. I realized in horror I had just consumed live bugs without even knowing.

How often I have done this in real life! Not eating the bugs, mind you. But made a last-minute purchase of chips or a candy bar or Hostess product (RIP) and consumed it in the car on the way home without thinking or enjoying. In reality, the bugs are probably healthier than the crap I have eaten.

I believe in signs, and being open to God's message. If I ignore this one I choose not to love myself the way God loves me. So far I have done really well at resisting. The 20+ cheese puff addiction is strong in this young skywalker, but I need to stay strong in my convictions to getting healthier. I've got amazing support from friends and family. And my life is worth so much more that a fleeting bit of instant gratification, even a cheese puff.

Unconditional love

I met Trena my freshman year at Butler University. She saw my poster in the mail room: Gas money for a ride to Ball State. My roommate at the time and I did not get along and she made everyone in our hall know how horrible I was. Trena thought to herself, 'It's an hour trip. How bad can it be?' and took me up on my offer. The hours there and back, she discovered I wasn't horrible and we've been friends ever since.

Nearly 20 years later (Holy crap, 20 years!) we continue to be a strong presence in each other's lives. Cecilia and I took a trip to Indy for a relaxing visit with her and husband RoudyBob. I returned refreshed, renewed and inspired.

First of all, Trena is the most committed philanthropist I know. How Michelle Obama hasn't discovered her yet I have no clue. Second, she and Bob took to a very active toddler into their home like she has always been there. Third, I discovered so much about our friendship that somehow I never noticed before.

Trena has loved and supported me through so many life changes, good and bad. She knows me better than I know myself. She has always been my cheerleader, my voice of reason and my ass kicker. I aspire to be like her every day. And she aspires to always continue to learn and grow.

I can be fat, I can be thin and she will always be there. She is a major part of why I will be successful. I hope other people have Trena's in their corner. Their journey would be so rewarding because of it.