Accountability from your peeps, and a new perspective on old workouts.

Some days, well, most days I sit on the edge of the pool, fully geared up, and just wish really hard for my body to jump in leaving my head and daydreaming thoughts nice and warm in the sauna. Body, please work out really hard, really fast, then come back to head and lazy thoughts for shower.

I don't always look forward to working out contrary to a lot of beliefs. I hate it many days. But I've discovered a secret weapon outside of the grim truth and acceptance of the fact that exercise is like death and taxes...simply not a choice. You just MUST.  My weapon is something that my clients have used to fight workout aversion forever- ACCOUNTABILITY. 

Last Tuesday I set a 'playdate' of sorts with my triathlon client, Crystal, to swim.  Early afternoon I'm toast and I was sincerely hoping my iphone would say that Crystal was trying to weasel her way out of our date and I could text back something like, "Aw man I'm so bummed you're not training with me.  Are you SURE you can't muster up the ovaries for this?"  All while being super happy that I, the coach, was no longer at risk of being the sorry example of a so-called fitness leader. 

The water was freezing.  Crystal hopped right in and I bitched to myself for 2500 yards and still didn't get warm.  She didn't let out a peep about the temperature.  She was too focused on her form and agility.  Her beginner enthusiasm for her new skill and lack of pet peeves such as goggle fogging and swimmers with poor lane sharing etiquette was refreshing.  It reminded me of when I first started and it was just plain so cool to be 'training' for an event.  My workout turned from lap after jaded lap....to an adventure.  And the sauna was that much sweeter.  Thank you, Crystal!

The next day I text Mickey, "I'm getting on the trainer tonight." (It's a stand for your own bike so you can ride at home).  I let him know this for two reasons- first to make him aware simply of my plans for the early evening.  And next to ensure that he doesn't let me get out of it by finding something else to do like watch Luke ride his bike instead, laundry, or walk the dog.  He ALWAYS says, "hey aren't you supposed to be on the trainer, already?!"  Sigh....yes. 

Once on, Mickey suggested I try a certain workout.  I responded that it probably wasn't a good day for that particular one because my "legs are especially tired."  Unlike lighthearted tri newbie Crystal, my overly experienced triathlete superstar boyfriend fired back with a statement that carried zero empathy yet was loaded with undeniable truth, "Everyone's legs are tired." 

But mine are more tired.  I pouted for a minute.  Then stopped.  And pedaled my ass off.  Mickey was right.  I was lucky to have tired legs, not to mention the ability to work out at home.  I finished super pleased that I made good use of my perfectly healthy, just tired, legs.  And I finished so grateful that someone insisted I quit being a baby. 

Tired of working out?  Search for new angles and perspectives on fitness.  Get with someone whose just learning what it means to be 'healthy' and enjoy their daily epiphones.  Then get with someone who knows your limits and is comfortable pushing them; perhaps even reminds you that you're not alone!

no excuses......

This is Colleen Chalk on the bike riding in her home, outside of the gym, without the push from her trainer, ......with 2 broken arms. I hope I don't hear any more of your excuses about not getting in your workout!   If you have two healthy arms, even one, you should be sweatin'! Thanks Colleen for making us all look like a bunch of babies.  You kick so much ass.  Even with your ass clearly kicked!   

My client Lauren, the self proclaimed 'salad dressing genius'

And a genius she is!!! People LOVE the savory flavor of ranch dressing. Known for its ability to get veggie phobics to hammer down some celery, ranch dressing has long been a staple in American refrigerators. (why I will never know, the stuff is totally gross to me and I certainly have no aversion to salty delicious dips).

But read the nutrition facts on even the most slimmed down of white speckled creamy goodness, and you can plan on canceling the latter half of your days food for just one tongue tip taste of ranch. It's just insanely high in EVERYTHING.

Til Lauren Vacca got ahold of its essence. She's devised a plan for all you ranch lovers to guiltlessly keep dipping. Here's how she's done it:

Take only the SMALLEST amount of packaged ranch powder and mix with plain Greek yogurt. Then water it down to consistency you like with low fat milk or soy milk. After that flavor as you like. She uses sarachas and all sorts of other great ways to spice it up.

.....anything to get rid of the ranch flavor as far as I'm concerned. Thanks Lauren!!

Rough day or gift?

Yesterday was a true test of my grit and inner peace. The day started with potential brilliance powerful enough to change the rotation of the earth. Myself and Paul Rosenberg plus a grip of the most gifted minds in fitness did a beautiful yoga video shoot for Paul's new studio plus we had a meeting of the minds. The topics rendered me speechless. In a whirlwind of both awe and inspiration, I left our meeting at the downtown emergency arts building ready to change the face of wellness. I found my keys....but couldn't find my car.

F'ing towed. The sign was vague and I chose the 'in a hurry hope since its Sunday there's amnesty' stupid stupid option of parking in an all together WAY too convenient spot for downtown Vegas. My heart hit my feet. My thoughts of fitness overhaul on the world dwindled down to the most obsolete in importance. I was going to be late to picking up my son.

It's funny how when your car gets towed, that that's really not the only problem you have. You have issues of dependents waiting for you (my 4 1/2 yr old), money most certainly, scheduling, and who the hell is going to come get you just to name a few.

I waited for my 'ride of shame' to arrive and finished my now cold coffee that once tasted like it could change my life it was so grand, to now crap. I was cold.

So cold. I will never forget at 12:45pm thinking to myself on Sunday jan 8 2012......wow, it would really suck to be homeless.

And then it occurred to me, which is so ridiculous that it doesn't occur daily, that I was so so lucky do even be in this position. Not only did I have a car, but I had someone coming to get me. I had a job to have a car and had someone that cared enough about me (mickey!) that they would come to get me out of the cold.

The rest of the day went as planned (other than the $350) and I was able to go about my fabulous life. My son watered the garden in his skateboard helmet; I had a moonlight run; I ate like a queen; and I slept warm and safe.

Our video shoot was all about the practice of inner strength, clarity, and wellness. It's these types of instances where an unexpected event attempts to derail me, that I'm so grateful I implement yoga into my life. Not only was I able to stay calm and keep my inner peace intact, but I was able to recognize that interference for what it was.....a gift.

Today I ran hard.

Today I ran hard. I hadn't planned to do so. But I wasn't in charge it seemed. A Chinese herbalist once told me that 'we store our grief in our hips'. At that time I figured he'd ingested one too many of his 'herbs'. But today my hips told that very story. Today I ran hard. And I feel, well, less grief.

Airport awakening.

Damn it I forgot to wear socks. My bare feet tip toed through security and I couldn't wait to get to my hand sanitizer in my......shit I forgot to remove all my liquids from my purse.

I'm flying Xmas weekend to see my family in Denver. I'm a mess as this is the very first Xmas I've been without my son and I look forward to some serious distraction. Not to mention some major catching up on my blog.

I'm currently smack dab in the middle of writing an entry for you explicitly describing the 'internal warfare' we often feel in the face if getting our asses moving and getting to the gym. This feat is especially difficult during a period off utter 'f***ing mess' in ones life. Little did I know the entry would hit home on an atrocious level so much so that I needed to take a breather. And stick to simpler principles of life. Like people watching. In the airport. And germs.

The germs were flowing and I surrendered. I was more concerned with the security officer announcing 'if you're waiting, it's probably because someone in front of you didn't follow directions and left a liquid in their carry-on'. I loved this guy already. Exploitation is totally my style (ask anyone I train).

I panicked remembering my Costco size hand sanitizer, 4 to 5 half empty containers of lotion, liquid B12 that's expired I'm sure, and essential oil muscle rub powerful enough to clear the sinuses of the entire sarcastic security team...,,all in MY purse and 10 feet away from discovery. Then public announcement on my behalf, surely.

Crap. Plastic baggies have been long abandoned from our airport security for which I don't blame them. Just don't bring your crap, seriously. I had but one option: the trash can.

I scrambled on my tip toes from the bottom trenches of my purse to the trash. In went all that had been semi-forgotten yet piling up. In went stuff I don't truly NEED yet have. In went impulse buys and extra shit. In went things that weighed me down.

Out came someone feeling lighter. I flirted with confidence with my prolific security friend instead of dodging his glare. I was at that moment liberated of 'extra'. What an extra awful concept and word 'extra' is. Yes ok it was only purse crap. But it was unnecessary. I thought of all the other 'unnecessary' weight I carry along both physically and metaphysically for which I could find a trash can. Now I'm crazy and want to dump it all. All but that which truly matters. Which we all know of, deeply buried below extra crap in our purse.

This Xmas and new year I solemnly
vow not to take on the extra. I will keep the energy used for that to amplify that which is most important: family, friends......and this blog.

Internal warfare....getting yourself moving with help from our other self.

I put my iPod on and stared at my feet as I sat on the locker room bench. I wished they would move themselves, go work hard through no effort of my own then bring my sweaty endorphin filled body back to the bench. Where my real self sat. Wasting time.

That's not how it works (fortunately or I'd be out of business) so I waved 'bye' to my super clients of whom had already finished their hell workout, their daily non-questioned routine, and I stood up. Then sat back down. And started crying. My life's a f***ing mess.

I have a fridge magnet that says "when you're going through hell.....keep going." Makes sense. It just so happens that I've been in a hell period. But 'going' seemed more like 'moving mountains' today. And cliche proverbs were just plain irritating on top of everything else irritating.

But fortunately the right song on my ipod moved my feet down to the stationary bike. The familiar pain in my ass that arose almost instantly from the totally inappropriate seat, both literal and proverbial, was strangely comforting. Gotta love ass pain. Something to let you know youre alive. As my skin moistened, I admit, my anxiety began to relax it's knuckles. Still- I wasn't warmed up yet, my legs felt like shit, my heart seemed to beat irregular, and my other heart.....my other heart was broken and spilling pieces all over the disgruntled categories of my life. F'ing waaaaah.

I had such a circus of self pity surrounding me I even grossed MYSELF out. Fortunately I don't remain TKO for long. I waved bye to my scattered heart and surrendered to an undeniable truth....fretting over the bullshit in life that's uncontrollable is useless. Especially at the gym. Obviously the new bike provoked oxygen to my brain was doing me well and I became epiphone stricken with this: This was MY hour to work on MY wellness and the fungus that is life's drama is no longer welcome.

Turning over the pedals started feeling easier. Seemingly large issues in my life such as my roller coaster relationship, my sons behavior, and my hamster wheel marathon schedule started to get pushed out of the picture. I did my best to re-frame. In the picture...in the front of my mind....I placed my body.....and nothing else. One thing only on which to focus.

Feeling each individual muscle group at work, my new awareness brought me off the bike and to the weights. For 5 min I will worry not about my finances, but about my latissimus dorsi. After that 10 min will go to not my arguments at home, but to my legs, then another 10 will kick out worries of my sons development and welcome swim specific core and upper body training.

I was an emotionless machine of physical productivity. My normal multitasking, idea manifesting, worrying, scheduling, time wasting mind stepped out. Thank f'ing god. For she was entirely way too busy with useless crap apparently to handle the real business. My alter ego (I shall call her badassbitcha) saved my day. And lots of time from a germy locker room bench.

One item at a time, with no personal afflictions allowed, I not only got through my workout, but I felt as we all do after dragging ourselves out of bed, so proud. My issues still felt small and my day a lot less grim.

I categorized myself 'super' with my clients whom come daily and check their emotions at the door. I know very well everyone has garbage in their lives acting as a veritable quick sand keeping us from a wellness routine. Thank you for staying afloat. Thank you for your 'other' less emotional and more gritty 'self'. See you next week No matter what.